#so there was my minor anxiety episode of the day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tasteleeknow · 1 year

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º.☆・ ⇢ HURT/COMFORT WITH SKZ

genre: fluff, angst. content warnings: insecurities, depression, jealousy, fear of the dark, accidental injury, minor illness, alcohol use, driving anxiety word count: 4.6k (500 each)

a/n: my first ot8 post as a little thank you for 2k! i appreciate you so much both for reading and leaving feedback. hope you enjoy this too!

CHAN — his insecurities are getting to him

“But…you said we could go today…” you mutter, struggling to keep the disappointment from your voice. You’d been looking forward to this day all week. Your boyfriend had promised you’d finally go to the art exhibition in the city. It would be ending soon and then it would be gone forever.

Your boyfriend looks up from where he is hunched over his desk, where he had been scribbling something in a notebook. “I just can’t today.”

“Is it work?”

He looks back at the paper, pen halted. “No.”

“What’s so important that it has to be done today?”

“Go with Hyunjin instead.”

You take a step back, caught off guard. “What?”

“Hyunjin likes art, I’m sure he’d be stoked to go with you.”

You instinctively look down at your phone, having just texted your roommate minutes earlier. “Yeah, he probably would. But I want to go with you.”

Chan stands from his desk, keeping his back to you. You watch as he fiddles with his pen for a moment before dropping it and finally turning to face you. “Do you really?”

You frown, walking over to him and adjusting his necklace where it had twisted around his neck. “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I want to do something with my boyfriend?”

He’s quiet for a moment.. Most of the time he just speaks, letting whatever he was thinking out—no filters or barriers. You loved him for it, for speaking his mind so freely. These moments when he was clearly preparing his words before voicing them are rare, so you wait. You wait, knowing he was taking a moment to gather his thoughts and that any interruption would throw him off track.

“Do you ever wonder if someone else would be better for you? If we don’t…click as well as we should?” he finally says, eyes cast down.

You drop your hands from his necklace, the one you’d gifted for his previous birthday. “No,” you answer without hesitation. “Do you?”

“Can you…think about it for a moment… before answering. It’s important.”

“I don’t need to think about it. I’m being honest. I’ve never wondered that and I’ve never had any doubts about you. About us.” You watch as his brows draw together, clearly lost in thought again. “Have you?” you ask him again.

“I wonder…if someone like Hyunjin might make you happier.”

You glance at the desk, where the notebook lays open—his scribbled handwriting filling the page. “Have you been feeling bad again?” you ask.

He looks over his shoulder, following your eyeline. He takes a step back to close the book. You step up to him, trailing your hand up his chest to rest over his heart. “It’s okay, I wasn’t trying to read it. I just…want you to tell me when you’re feeling bad. So I can be here for you.”

He takes a step away from you, your hand dropping from his chest. “But that’s the problem. I’m always having these episodes; days where I don’t want to leave the house or where I feel so low I feel like I bring you down with me.”

“Why are you writing?” you ask, a flicker of panic crossing his face at your question. “I’m not asking what you’re writing. Just why you’re doing it.”

“Because…it…makes it better. Helps.”

“You’re working on it. You’re doing things you’ve been taught will help you get better and that’s why it’s not a problem. You love me and I love you and we are working on ways to be better people because we love each other. Right?”

“I do… want to be better for you,” he says, pressing his own hand over his heart.

“And for you?”

A small smile crosses his lips. “And for me.”

You match his smile, stepping close so you can wrap your arms around him. “I love you now and I’ll love you when you love yourself too.” His arms tighten around you. “I can’t wait,” you finish.

MINHO — you’re afraid of the dark

“400,” you announce, grinning at your boyfriend across the table.

A grumble of thunder distracts his attention to the window behind you before he looks at you again. “Why the fuck is it 400?”

“I own all 4,” you say, pointing to your monopoly cards.

“This game is stupid.”

“It was invented as a critique of landlords and capitalism, it’s meant to be stupid.”

“Be a nice landlord and give me a free pass.”

“No. Pay up.”

He grumbles, slapping the money in your palm just as your apartment goes dark. You yelp, dropping the paper money and reaching blindly across the table until you feel your boyfriends arm.

“Blackout,” he says, stating the obvious. He stands from the table before you have a proper grip, leaving you stranded. You stand, feeling around the table for him.

“Where are you? Minho?”

“Just getting my phone,” he replies, already sounding much too far away.

You reach out into the darkness, relying purely on your memory of your apartment to navigate. “Come back, please. Minho! Please.”

“Boo,” he whispers, right at your side. You grip his arm, too relieved to be mad at him for attempting to make you jump. The screen from his phone lights up his face, then he turns on his torch.

“I’m gonna find some candles, you wanna stay here?”

“No.”

“I can get your phone? Won’t be dark.”

“Wanna come.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Poor baby.”

“Shut up.”

You keep your arm on his as he leads you through to the kitchen, standing right by him as he crouches down to dig through a drawer. You hold the torch for him until he stands, holding a few candles and a matchbox.

“Where do you wanna set up camp? Are we finishing the game?”

You shake your head.

“Bath?” he suggests.

“In the dark?”

He holds the candles up. “Come on.”

He leads you to the bathroom and you’re forced to let go of him as he sets up the candles and leans into the tub to turn the water on. You turn to look behind you occasionally, the pitch black hallway making you feel uneasy.

Minho’s breath tickles your neck as he comes to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Would you like help?” he asks, fingers moving to fiddle with the buttons on your jeans.

You look up at the dark doorway. “Could you... shut that?”

He kisses your cheek then moves around you to shut the door as you pull your clothes off. The room is barely lit, the reflection of the candles in the mirror making the small bathroom seem much bigger. He pulls his shirt over his head as he approaches you.

“You’re alright, I’ve got you. Yeah?” You nod and he leans around you to turn the water off. “Hop in.”

You lower yourself into the warm water, watching as your boyfriend removes the rest of his clothes. You shuffle aside to make room as he joins you, lying back so his head rests on the soft neck rest you’d bought him for christmas. He hold his arms up, beckoning you onto him. “C’mere.”

You climb over him, pressing your chest against his and resting your head on his shoulder—just above the waterline. His arms wrap around you.

“Good?” he asks.

You close your eyes, surrounded by warmth. The darkness feels far away. “Mm, good.”

CHANGBIN — he accidentally hurts you

It was an old injury, so old you’d only ever mentioned it in passing once. You’d get a twinge in your wrist occasionally but apart from that, you practically forgot about it yourself. That’s why when your boyfriend challenges you to an arm wrestle, you don’t hesitate to say yes. You were equally competitive, you challenged each other to silly little games constantly.

“You’re not gonna let me win?”

“Have I ever?”

“Fair.” You settle yourself over the counter, opposite him. He presses his palm to the smooth surface, offering an example for you to mirror. He grasps your hand in his, pulling you over the counter a little more so he can press a kiss to the back of your hand. “Ok, ready,” he says, allowing you to resume your starting position.

“What’s that?” you ask, pointing over his shoulder with your free hand. As soon as he turns his head you start, pulling with all your strength. You manage to get him halfway down to the counter before he stops you, easily turning the tables. He puts more strength into it than he needs to, thrown off by your headstart. A sharp pain runs up your arm as your hand slams into the counter.

You pull your hand back to your chest, cradling it against your body as you scrunch your eyes shut—waiting for the pain to dull. It’ll pass, it’ll pass… you repeat to yourself. A soft touch on your shoulder alerts you to the fact Changbin has moved around the counter to your side. “Just a sec,” you mutter, unable to speak properly until the pain has dulled.

“Let me see,” he says, sounding stoic. He sounds so calm that you’re completely caught off guard when you look up at him and see his eyes watery. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him cry. It’s so shocking it distracts you entirely from the now dull wrist pain.

You let him lift your hand gently as you watch his face. “Can you move it?” he says, inspecting your skin as if tracking down the source of your pain would remedy it.

“Yeah, it’s fine. It’s just that old injury flaring up.” You pull your hand from him easily, the hold he has on you so gentle it offers no resistance.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

You lift his chin with your fingers, his gaze pointed towards the floor. “Was just karma for trying to cheat,” you say, a small smile on your face as you attempt to lighten the mood.

It doesn’t work, your boyfriend's eyes fix on your wrist—his eyes reminding you of a kicked puppy. You give him no warning when you jump on him, wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands come to support you naturally, a reflexive response to the way you’d greet him every day.

“Wasn’t your fault,” you mumble against his neck. “I’d forgotten about it too, honestly. S’okay.”

“Does it still hurt?”

You pull back from him enough to hold the inside of your wrist up to his mouth. His eyes flick between yours, confused for a moment. Then he brings his lips to your skin, pressing a soft kiss to your wrist.

“Not anymore,” you whisper, offering him a small smile before replacing your wrist with your lips—pressing lightly against his.

HYUNJIN — he thinks you don’t love him as much as he loves you

Your boyfriend was a hopeless romantic. You loved that about him, truly. The only problem was when you felt like you struggled to meet his expectations; when you didn’t express your love in a way that fit with his love language. He would wilt.

“Jinnie? Please talk to me,” you encourage, lifting the blanket from your boyfriend's head. He rolls over to face the wall, ignoring you. You sigh, lying down next to him—resting your hands under your head as you stare at his back.

“It’s okay,” he says, still facing the wall. “I love you more than you love me, I just have to…accept it.”

You reach to grab his shoulder, forcing him to roll onto his back so you can crawl over him. You stroke his forehead gently, brushing away a non-existent lock of hair—a habit you hadn’t yet abandoned since he’d cut his hair short. “Stop saying that, it hurts me.”

His brows pull together as his plush lips press together firmly. “You said you needed space.”

“Yes, that is what I said. I didn’t say ‘I love you less than you love me’.”

He looks confused but he shifts a little, bringing his hands up to rest against your thighs. “I’ve never wanted space from you. I want you always.”

His cheeks are rosy and you can’t help brushing your thumbs across them, cradling his face in your hands. “If I had to see anyone else as much as I see you, I’d lose my mind. It’s because I love you so much that I ask for my own space so rarely,” you finish.

“Do I bother you? Is that why you asked?”

“Sometimes anything external irritates me. Anything. My clothes on my skin, a notification on my phone. I just need to be alone sometimes, completely. No notifications, no sound, no other person. Even you. Even though you’re my favourite person ever.”

“Ever?”

“Ever, ever,” you smile, moving one of your thumbs to brush over his lips. You pull his bottom lip down gently, he’s much more relaxed now. “We are different people, hm? It’d be boring if we were exactly the same.”

“Mm,” he agrees, pulling you down against him. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heart as you rise and fall gently with his breath. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Sometimes…I get…scared that you could never feel…as much as I do. So one day you’ll just…have had enough of me and because I know that won’t happen for me…it feels like…a clock is ticking down.”

“You have to trust me. If you really love me, you’ll trust me when I tell you how I feel. I promise I’ll always be honest, hm?”

“Yeah,” he says, the vibration of his voice in his chest against your ear.

“I promise I love you,” you say, lifting your head to whisper against his lips.

“I promise I love you, too.”

JISUNG — takes care of you when you’re drunk

You stumble up the steps, fiddling with your keys as your friend drives away. You drop them just as the door opens, stumbling forward into Jisungs arms as you lose your balance trying to bend down. He catches you, holding you upright until you're steady. Then he bends down, snatching the keys and poking his head out to look down the street.

“Where’s your friend?”

You smile. “Left.”

He frowns. “Before I opened the door?”

You reach out to stroke his hair. “You look so cute when you’re worried.” You kick your shoes off, stumbling into your apartment until you find the couch. “What time is it?” you mumble, struggling not to fall sideways and sleep right there in the living room.

Your roommate drops the keys in the little box near the door before following you, dropping to his knees at your feet. You reach to pet his head again. “You’re a good friend,” you slur, giggling when he frowns. He lets you pull the corners of his mouth up into a smile then he stands, holding his hand out to help you up.

“Bed,” he says, grunting a little as he pulls you up—your legs practically jelly. You fall into his arms, resting your head on his shoulder. You almost fall asleep just trying to walk to your room, collapsing onto your bed the second Jisung releases you. You close your eyes, drifting in and out of consciousness as Jisung moves around the room.

He’s leaning over you, trying to touch your face. “Sleep,” you mumble, attempting to push his hand away. He holds your hand down on the bed.

“Just let me clean this off, yeah?” he says, attempting to wipe the makeup off your face. You relent, going limp to let him work.

“Sungie?”

“Mm?”

“You’re a good friend.”

“You’re completely off your head,” he laughs. “Will you remember this tomorrow?”

“Maaaybe.”

“Maybe,” he repeats, the cloth against your face halting for a moment. “Did you…meet anyone tonight?” he asks, resuming his makeup removal service.

“My friends,” you mumble.

“I meant…ya know…like flirted with anyone.”

You giggle, reaching for Jisung’s arm. “Do you flirt, Sungie?”

“No.”

“Whyy?”

“There’s no one I want to flirt with.”

You pout, sitting up and squishing his cheeks between your fingers. “That’s sad, poor Sungie.”

“I’m not sad. I’m happy.”

“You are?”

He reaches up to smooth down your hair. “Mm. I'm happy if you’re happy.”

“What if I’m sad?”

“Then I’ll find what’s making you sad and take it away.”

“You’re a good friend,” you yawn, falling back down onto your pillows. He leans down to press a kiss to your head. You reach out to grab his hand as he stands to leave. “Sungie?”

“Yes?”

“Am I a good friend?”

“You’re a good everything.”

“...a good everything?” you mumble through another yawn, closing your eyes as Jisung intertwines your fingers.

“Mm. You’re everything.”

FELIX — you’re burnt out from uni/work

“What do you want for dinner?” your boyfriend asks gently. He’d been overly gentle with you all day, treating you like a cornered kitten. You loved him, but every question he asked you was wearing away at you. He’d suggested going to your favourite park, the colourful flowers and gentle breeze often did your mindset wonders. You didn’t want to get dressed. He’d put on your comfort film, the background noise was nice—but not enough to distract you from the heavyweight in your chest.

“I don’t care.”

“Pizza?” he asks, knowing it was your favourite—your go-to option when you were feeling low. You say nothing, closing your eyes and resting your head back against the couch.

“Wanna go for a drive and pick it up?” Felix asks, making the decision for you.

“No.”

His gentle fingers trace across your knuckles, where you are gripping a pillow to your chest. You relax your grip.

“I’ll order then,” he says, sounding a little dejected. You lift your head. It feels heavy on your neck. You fall into your boyfriend's lap, head resting against his thighs.

“Thank you,” you whisper. His free hands come to your hair, stroking the strands gently just above your ear.

“Anything you need?”

“Just you,” you answer, closing your eyes again. The sound of the tv is the only noise in the room for the next 20 minutes, your boyfriend's fingers continuing their gentle ministrations in your hair.

When the doorbell rings he lifts your head gently, replacing his lap with a pillow so he can answer the door. He’s gone not even a minute. That’s all the time you need for your eyes to fill with tears, suddenly completely overwhelmed. He places the pizza on the table then kneels by your side.

“Okay?”

You open your mouth to speak, unable to get anything past your lips but an ugly sob. He jumps into action, lifting your head so he can resume his position on the couch. You press your face to his legs for a moment before lifting yourself to climb into his lap, wrapping yourself around him. “So tired,” you sob, his hand stroking up and down your back.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. I wish—I wish I could take it away.”

“Don’t—” you heave in a breath, already struggling to breathe through your uncontrollable sobbing. “Don’t leave.”

“Shhh. Not going anywhere, promise. Right here…just breathe.” His voice wobbles a little, prompting you to pull back to look at his face. “Breathe for me,” he finishes. His eyes are watery to match yours, his cheeks already wet from where his tears had spilled over.

You bring your hands to his cheeks, attempting to wipe them away. “Please don’t cry,” you sob.

He huffs out a laugh through his tears. “You cried first.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

His eyes soften, pulling your head back down to rest on his shoulder. “I know.” He lets you cry into his shoulder until your head hurts, finally lifting you from his lap so he can bring you a box of tissues. He takes one for himself. You take in the scene you both make, blowing your noses as your pizza sits cold on the coffee table.

Felix looks up at you, his nose bright red. You burst into laughter, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his neck again. “What’s funny?” he asks between sniffles.

“Just love you.”

SEUNGMIN — he comes home to find you sick

You’re faintly aware of a knock at the door, too unwell to even consider getting up to answer it. Instead you groan as you roll over, reaching for the bottle of water on the ground by the couch. You struggle to sit up, lifting your head just enough to sip from the lip of the bottle. The door opens just as you look across the room longingly at the fan, wishing you had the energy to turn it on and drag it over to blow directly in your face.

“Oh, you’re home. Why didn’t you—” your boyfriend pauses, taking in your sweaty form sprawled out on the couch. “What’s wrong?”

You’re suddenly overwhelmed, the exhaustion from looking after yourself all day catching up with you. You reach out towards him as your face crumbles, a sob escaping your throat. You don’t see him approach you, your eyes squeezed closed as you feel his arms wrap around you. He pulls you into his lap, guiding your head to his shoulder.

“You’re sick? Why didn’t you call?”

“You were busy,” you gasp between sobs.

He’s quiet, letting you gather yourself. It doesn’t take long, you don’t have the energy to cry. When you’re quiet he speaks again. “What do you need?”

“Don’t wanna be sick anymore,” you whine, knowing he couldn’t actually take it away but feeling much like you did as a child—begging your mum to make it stop.

“I know,” he says, palm rubbing up and down your back. “What else do you need?”

“Sleep.”

He stands, lifting you with him. Your legs dangle, too tired to cling to him like you usually do. He lowers your legs to the ground briefly so he can hook his arm under your legs and lift you properly. You wrap your arms around his neck weakly, relying on him entirely to hold you against him.

“Should’ve called,” he mutters, turning to manoeuvre through your bedroom doorway. He lowers you gently to the bed then disappears into your ensuite bathroom. You close your eyes, a small pained sound escaping your throat.

A cold cloth presses against your forehead and your eyes flutter open to take in the worried face of your boyfriend. “Have you taken anything?” he asks.

“This morning.”

He stands quickly, leaving the room without a word. When he returns he’s carrying a bottle of water and a small cup. “Swallow these,” he instructs, sitting down at the edge of the bed so he can help you sit. You do what he says, swallowing each tablet individually with a mouthful of water.

He places his hand at the back of your head to lower you back against the pillow. “Sleep.”

“Can’t sleep without you,” you mutter. He pulls his shirt over his head then crawls up next to you, wrapping his arm around you so he can pull you into him. “Do you think it’ll be gone when I wake?” you ask, trying to focus on the warm pressure of his body against your back.

“Definitely,” he answers, sounding completely sure of himself. You close your eyes as his lips press to your neck, drifting out of consciousness almost immediately.

JEONGIN — you panic while learning to drive

You’d been putting it off for years, the anxiety of learning to drive completely overwhelming. It wasn’t until your boyfriend offered to teach you that you finally worked up the courage. He made everything enjoyable, every grocery trip felt like a fun day out if you were with him.

“You’re ready to go out on the street,” he encourages again as your hands grip the wheel tightly. You’d only managed driving around an empty carpark so far. It was late on a Tuesday night, the streets were practically empty.

“I…don’t think I am.”

“I know you are.”

You turn to look at your boyfriend, his eyes shining behind his round glasses. You suck in a deep breath, attempting to loosen your grip on the wheel a little. You ease your foot off the break, rolling forward slightly before pressing the accelerator down slowly. Jeongin is quiet next to you, patient as always.

When you reach the exit you slam the breaks on, suddenly panicked by the open road ahead of you. “We’re going left,” your boyfriend says, still sounding totally calm and confident.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I can’t, I really can’t.”

He rests his hand on your thigh. “Baby? Hey,” You take one hand off the wheel to grasp his hand. “You got it,” he finishes.

Your heart races in your chest as you grip the wheel with both hands again, a shiver running through your body. Jeongin talks to you as you turn out into the street, giving you calm instructions and gentle encouragement. It isn’t until a car pulls out and follows directly behind you that you start to really panic, their headlights shining directly into the car.

“The car,” you mutter, panic evident in your voice.

“Ignore them,” your boyfriend says. “You can turn left at the next street.” Your eyes keep flicking to the rear view mirror, another shiver running through your body. Then they honk and you break too fast, swerving to pull up the side of the road. The car honks again as they speed past you, leaving you gasping for breath as you try to stay calm.

A hand gently rests over yours and you look up to the man sitting in the passenger seat. He pulls his hoodie over his head. “Want me to take over?” he asks. You nod, pulling the handbrake on and stepping out of the car.

He meets you half-way around the car, pulling his soft hoodie over your head and helping you push your arms through the sleeves. He’d often give you an item of his clothing when you were anxious, the smell of him close to you calming your nerves. The fabric is soft against your skin and you press the sleeve to your face as you climb into the passenger seat.

You’re both quiet as your boyfriend drives, your heart slowing back to a normal rate as you watch the world go by. It isn’t until the car pulls into an unfamiliar car park that you realise you haven’t been heading home. Jeongin presses a button to open the sunroof then turns the engine off. He gestures to the back seat and you climb over the centre console, your boyfriend following close behind.

He lays himself across the back seat and holds his arms open, beckoning you to join him. You press yourself against him, head resting against his shoulder—his arms around you prevent you from falling off the seats. You have a perfect view up to the clear night sky, your boyfriend's soft breath tickling your skin.

“You did well,” he says, breaking the silence finally.

You huff. “I freaked out.”

“You overcame your fear and drove on the roads,” he presses his lips to your temple. “Proud of you,” he mumbles against your skin.

a/n: some of these are snippets from longer wips! may be seen again in longer form in the future...

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

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lipglossanon · 10 months

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I’m With You

........::::*❃*❃*•°✾°•*❃*❃*::::........

roommate!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

This one’s a little self indulgent on my part 😌 also the last one I have planned for roommate Leon as he’s going on hiatus as I work on other WIPs 👌

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, hurt/comfort, softness 😌, slight dirty talk, praise, unprotected sex, creampie, Leon being his dorky self 🤭

Not proofread ✍️

Title from I’m With You by Avril Lavigne

........::::*❃*❃*•°✾°•*❃*❃*::::........

“Whatcha up to?”

You raise your head up from laying on your palm, turning your attention away from the tv to Leon walking towards you.

Stepping up to the couch, he presses a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“Rough day?” he asks softly noticing the show playing on the screen.

You nod, head sinking back down to rest on your hand, “Yeah, just trying to forget about it.”

He strokes the back of your neck.

“Be right back,” he murmurs, kissing you again before walking to his room.

You turn back to the tv, letting the comfort of childhood wash over you, lessening your anxiety. After a few minutes, Leon joins you on the couch. You notice he changed out of his work clothes into some comfy looking loungewear.

“C’mere, honey,” he grabs a blanket from the back of the couch and holds it open in his arms, “come snuggle with me.”

You give him a watery smile and scooch over until he’s wrapping you up like a burrito and cuddling you to his chest as you lay on your sides to watch TV.

“Wanna talk about?” his low voice whispers in your ear.

“Just a shitty day,” you whisper back, snuggling further into the fuzzy blanket and his arms.

A comfortable quiet settles as you both just relax in each other’s company. A few episodes later and you feel yourself drifting to sleep but you shift and squirm trying to fight it.

“Shh, I got you,” Leon presses a kiss to your ear, “it’s okay.”

You nod off, listening to the sound of Leon’s even breathing and the faint voices coming from the speakers.

You wake some time later to a different show playing on the television, sound turned down so low it’s barely noticeable. Leon’s hands are petting across your body and you sigh as you nuzzle against him.

“Awake?”

“Mmhmm,” you press a kiss to his chest, “thank you.”

“Sometimes y’just need to take a breather,” he presses a kiss to your hairline.

You squirm a little, “Yeah, thank you. It helped me relax some.”

“Good,” his hands stop moving as he takes a quick breath, “I’ve got sort of an unorthodox way to help you relax more. If you want.”

“Like what?”

“Sex,” he states bluntly making you laugh softly.

“I mean it,” he grins as you tilt your head up to look at him, “it’s good for relaxation.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“It’s just an offer.”

“I never said no,” a shy smile steals over your face, “I’m not opposed to it.”

“Oh?”

Leon pushes the back of the blanket up just enough to reach a hand underneath. He slips it between your thighs and slowly teases your pussy through your shorts.

“Just need to relax, honey,” he soothes, tongue licking the shell of your ear, “let me make you feel good.”

“Leon,” you whimper, trapped in your burrito blanket so you can only wiggle against him.

“I know,” he whispers, voice heavy against your sensitive neck, “let me dick you down baby. Stuff this little cunt til you can’t think anymore.”

You whine and he moves his fingers underneath the band of your shorts and panties to tease along your pussy lips to circle your clit.

Slick is oozing from your hole dripping into your panties making it easy for Leon to circle your slippery clit with his fingers.

“Leon,” you sigh, pushing your hips down into his hand.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, kissing you sweetly as his middle and ring finger press into your clenching heat.

You moan into his mouth as he scissors you open before slowly sliding his fingers deeper into your wet pussy. He lets his palm slap against your clit with every thrust up into your cunt as you sloppily suck on his tongue.

“Leon, please,” you pull back, licking his spit off of your lips.

“Okay,” he soothes, shifting you down on the couch and onto your stomach.

He bunches up the blanket with one hand as he slides your panties and shorts off with the other. You whine to feel the cool air of the room but it’s soon replaced with Leon’s body heat as he grinds his bare cock against your wet pussy lips.

“Ready?” he presses his cock against your clenching hole but waits til you nod before pressing in.

You both moan as he slowly slides into your wet fluttering walls until he’s bottoming out in your cunt.

“So good for me,” he grunts as he pulls out and snaps his hips back into your pussy, “such a good girl.”

You whine in reply, letting Leon’s heavy weight press you down into the couch, cocooned in the blanket, as he spears you open on his cock.

“Shh, shh, let me do all the thinkin honey,” he coos, grinding deep into your spasming pussy to rub against your g-spot, “there we go, you just worry about feeling good.”

Your moans are muffled as he gently presses your face into the cushions. You let him rut his fat cock into your pussy for hours. He goes so slow and deep that you’re drooling all over the place, pussy feeling stretched and used—you love it, not able to think past the feeling of him buried in your guts.

Leon hasn’t moved you from where he first pressed you down into the couch. The blanket is saturated with your slick, dribbling past Leon’s dick every time he he thrusts into your pussy.

“Gonna have to do this every night huh,” he chuckles into your shoulder as he kisses the skin, “really feels like y’needed it.”

“Uh huh,” you reply dumbly, clenching around Leon harder at his voice in your ear.

“Don’t worry,” he coos, grinding his tip against the opening of your womb making you kick your legs from the pleasurable pinch of pain, “you just need my cock emptying that silly brain, right honey?”

“Please, Leon.”

“Shh, shh,” he nips your neck before whispering in your ear, “that’s my good girl, perfect little pussy just taking my cock nice ‘n deep. Mmm so good for me.”

You’re whining louder now so Leon slows down even more, burying his cock into your soaked cunt with a sigh.

“I need you to keep quiet, don’t want to wake the neighbors,” he chuckles as you try to buck back against him.

You shiver and moan quietly, the syrupy pleasure trickling from your brain all the way through your body as the band of arousal winds tighter and tighter. Leon shifts his hips and presses his cock upwards to grind his drippy tip against your g-spot constantly.

“Oh, oh, I’m gonna— oh Leon,” you try to let him know you’re about to cum, but your tongue feels thick and heavy in your mouth, brain slowly processing what you’re feeling much less words to go along with it.

“C’mon, be a good girl and cream my cock, you can do it,” he rumbles low in his chest, voice smoky and warm, “want you squeezing on my dick so I can fill you up.”

“Fuck,” you gasp out a mewling cry as your pussy clamps down on Leon’s dick, walls pulsing and fluttering around him as that band snaps and your climax washes over your senses.

“That’s it, my good girl,” Leon grunts, snapping his hips harder into your soaking wet hole, “take my load, honey, wanna watch it drip outta ya.”

With a few more harsh thrusts, Leon groans and buries his cock deep into your pussy, white hot cum spilling from his throbbing tip. He grinds himself even deeper as he finishes inside your fluttering cunt before slowly pulling out, a creamy mix of cum and slick oozing from your pussy.

Leon chuckles softly and flops down on top of you, making you let out a breath as his weight smushes you into the couch cushions.

“Leon,” your whine ends on a giggle as he blows a raspberry on your neck.

“I know, I know,” he kisses the side of your head, “wanna join me in a shower?”

“Yes, please,” you wiggle and finally free yourself from the blanket to raise up on your knees, “I’m a mess.”

“Mmm, I’d say so,” he grins at you, slapping your ass as he stands up, “c’mon, you know how long these raggedy ass pipes take to heat up.”

You roll your eyes and swat his hands away before he can smack your ass again.

“I know, Leon, I live here too.”

“Never said ya didn’t,” his grin widens and he swings down to grab you up in a bridal carry, “this’ll be faster, sweet cheeks.”

“Oh my god,” you bury your face in his chest with a laugh, “you did not just say that. You’re such a dork, Leon.”

“Maybe, jury’s still out on that one.”

He drops a quick kiss to the top of your head as he gently carries you to the bathroom.

#roommate!leon s kennedy #they were roommates #lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #fem!reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x reader #roommate!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #roommate!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut

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theetherealbloom · 1 year

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UNEVEN ODDS - CH. 6

Chapter Six: I Swear A Million Times To Hold You Just The Way You Like

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER AHH, (besties wrap it up!) Lowkey this chapter was poorly edited so sorry! Age-gap Romance, Violence, ANGST, Swearing, Suicide, FLUFF, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, the pandemic, character death, INFECTED, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing, TLOU is dark please read at your own risk! (MINORS, please run away :,)

Word Count: 17.3k (I hope this makes up for the delay my bad)

A/N: HELLAUR HOOMANS! Thank you again for all the love and support you have given me for this series! I truly appreciate you all for being here <3 This chapter and episode feels a little bit personal to write since I am someone who also has PTSD, so when I watched Pedro’s performance during those difficult panic attack scenes, I truly felt represented and seen. For me, my PTSD is subtle and not overly loud or noticeable at first glance, so when I saw it being portrayed that way I started ugly crying pls--

Song: Sweet Disaster by Oh Wonder

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

TLOU WORLD – 2023

THREE MONTHS LATER…

WYOMING WILDERNESS, HEADING WEST – DAY

It’s been three months since the incident, and neither of you spoke about what happened that morning in Kansas City. The past few months of walking West have proven a challenge as the seasons begin to change. As you suspected, you noticed Joel slowly let Ellie in; he taught her how to look for tracks and how to properly keep watch the first time he fell asleep. Her questioning, her loving attitude, her nasty language, everything entered his heart gradually. He hadn't planned on it, but he now cares for her. You, on the other hand, were already fond of her, you taught her the more “fun” activities. Like looking for more constellations as time passes by, continuing educating her ASL, and teaching a few of your favorite songs from your original reality.

You occasionally hummed as the seasons changed, trying to fill the silence and somber with music. Joel and Ellie didn’t seem to mind, you asked if they were bothered or annoyed but Joel grunted, “Better than Ellie asking a million more questions.” You simply chuckled while Ellie protested and began to defend herself. And then there were the moments you couldn’t quite label. Small touches between you and Joel, providing each other comfort now and then, knowing how bad the loneliness can get to anyone. A squeeze on your shoulder, the brushing of fingers, and if you were lucky, you’d get to hold his hand for a period of time as you trekked through the terrain. You swore there were times you felt his gaze roaming every mile of skin you had, but every time you turned to look he was already busy doing something else.

The branches have exchanged their leaves for white sleeves and all warm-blooded creatures make ghosts as they breathe. As gentle as feathers, the snow piles high, this world gets rewritten and retraced every time. After seeing Cody crawling with infected, you three headed out to the large forest to find out if Tommy is still alive and in hiding. Even Ellie tried to point out that there was a possibility he didn’t make it, but as Joel had said before, he was persistent.

You came across a cozy cabin hidden in the forest. Realizing you had no other options, you had to ask for directions to where you were at the moment. A quiet and nice old lady, named Florence had resided and mentioned she was with her husband, Marlon. After making the soup she told three of you that her husband wouldn’t be happy they were in their home. You peeked past the curtains and out the window you saw he husband returning from hunting in the forest, hanging out two white rabbits by the door. Marlon walked inside his home to find her wife sitting upon the rocking chair, her gaze slowly moving towards Joel, him with his revolver out while you and Ellie are upstairs, quietly watching from the mezzanine.

Marlon reluctantly places his bow and arrows on the side entry table, removes his gloves, and unzips his outer jacket, while Joel grumbles out, “And the gun.” Marlon grunts, “Who the hell are you?” Joel walks a bit closer while demanding for him to cooperate, he says, “Just someone passing through. Take the gun out, two fingers only, put it out of reach.” The senior does as he’s told and places it on the other table and asks his wife who was quietly watching the interaction, “Why didn’t you shoot him?” She continues rocking back and forth, “The gun’s all the way over there. He didn’t hurt me by the way.”

“Yeah, I got eyes.” He nonchalantly replies and spots the empty soup bowl on the wooden living room table, “You made him soup?” Florence gives his husband an obvious answer, "Yeah, I did. It’s cold out.” He simply shakes his head and sits down on his own chair. “I’m looking for my brother.” Joel states and the other man replies and removes his cap, “Well, I ain’t seen him.” Your cowboy shakes his head, “I haven’t told you what he looks like.”

“He look anything like you?” He asks and Joel tilts his head, “A bit.”

Ellie taps your arm and whispers to you, “It’s you and Joel from the future.” You frown and shake your head as you whisper back to her, “No.” The young girl rolls her eyes, “Whatever, you should see the way he looks at you when you’re not paying attention.” You blink at her, and you’re seemingly left speechless.

“Then I ain’t seen him,” He says, “He’s got a girl and his wife with him.” You hear Florence say and you nearly choke on air in surprise. Joel turns to look at her, pissed, and confused, and didn’t even bother to correct her. Ellie yells next to you, “Can I come down?” Joel raises his voice at her, “No! Ellie!” You couldn’t stop her as she excitedly runs downstairs, and you have no choice but to follow her.

The elderly couple laughs knowingly, Joel looks at you and Ellie, “What did I just say?” And you give him an apologetic look and Ellie replies, “Joel, come on. They’re like a thousand.” Marlon questions aloud, “Who’s this little psycho and her mother?” Your mouth slightly parted open, about to inform him that you weren’t married to Joel and you weren’t her mother but Joel dismissed it, “Never mind them. I need you to tell us where we are.” He went to the middle of the living room, shoving the map in his direction, cheekily the man throws back, “If you got a map, why you lost?” Ellie’s lips turn downwards as she replies sarcastically, “Must’ve missed all the street signs in the enormous fucking forest.”

Marlon whistles out, “Holy.” And Florence chuckles, still enjoying the excitement that they haven’t had in years. Joel sighs and points out on the map, “We’re somewhere here. Exactly where? And your answer better be the same as your wife’s.” Marlon glances back at his wife, “Did you tell him the truth?” She nods, “Yeah.” He raises an eyebrow at her, “Are you telling me the truth?” She doesn’t hesitate, “Yeah.” He lets out a deep exhale as he leans over, pointing where you all were currently.

Joel places his revolver back in his holster, his eyebrows are furrowed and he sighs in frustration, “Well, you found a great place to hide, I guess.” He sits down and you sit right next to him and Ellie mimics you both. “Hide? Came here before you were born, sonny. Get the hell away from everybody.” Marlon replied as his wife gives her input, “I didn’t want to.” He grumpily waves her off and you lean next to Ellie, “Okay, there’s some truth in what you said.” She gives you a smirk in response.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you about your brother but if you’ve come this far, then you know what’s out there. You seen Cody?” Marlon asked while Joel clenches his jaw, and Ellie replies, “Yeah, got close enough. It’s crawling with Infected.” He hums in agreement, “Yeah, Laramie and Wind River Reservation. Anywhere people used to be, you can’t go there no more.” Joel doesn’t give up and asks, “So you haven’t heard the name, ‘Tommy’?”

“Nope.” He simply says and Ellie questions, “What about the Fireflies?” Florence replies this time, “We get those in the summer.” The young girl frowns, “Not the bugs, the people.” Cluelessly the woman asks, “There are firefly people?” Her husband chuckles and Joel's frown grows deeper, creating harsh lines on his forehead, “You got any advice on the best way west?” The senior man doesn’t miss a beat, “Yeah. Go east. But you never go past the river here.” He then points to a specific location on the map, the blue stream that flows across the paper, “Ever.”

“What’s past the river?” Ellie asked, brave and a little naive, the kind wise Florence replies, “Death. We never see who’s out there but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some infected, some not.” She turns to look at Joel, “If your brother is west of the river, he’s gone.” You lift your eyes to the man next to you, Joel has his eyebrows pinched, his gaze distant, and the lines by the side of his mouth are evident. Your heart sinks at the chance that the elderly couple might be right. “You’re not gonna scare us,” Ellie softly says and the woman answers, “Scared him.” Her husband chuckles and Joel scrambles to get out of there, not saying a single word, he’s grabbing the map and packs up the rest of his things.

You and Ellie are quick to follow after him as she comments, “You don’t seriously believe them.” Joel’s footsteps are loud with every crunch of snow, “They’ve lived here a long time.” He turns and you do too to see Ellie grab a rabbit, “Put that back.” Ellie doesn’t listen and swings the dead rabbit behind her back, “They don’t know anything. Never heard of the fireflies.” Joel unexpectedly stops walking, and you can hear his breathing become labored as he places his hand on the wooden fence, you angle your head to the right in confusion and concern.

Joel only hears muffled echoes as the ringing in his ears overpowers his senses, “Joel? Are you okay?” You softly ask and there is no response, you hear Ellie begin to worry as well and lines begin to form across your forehead. “Shut up.” His voice was barely audible as he places his hand on his chest. You jerk back, but you try to decode what was happening. Ellie then asks him, “Holy shit. Are you dying?” He shakes his head in response, “I’m okay.” But the world seems to spin around him, his vision feels blurry and the weightlessness he feels is unsettling, unable to process the news he had just heard and the possible chance his brother is no longer alive. The further he goes West, the more his paternal empathy is starting to merge Ellie and Sarah into one.

Yours and Ellie’s voices merge into one large echo as you both try and make sure he’s alright. “I’m fine.” You both don’t buy it, “No, no, but are you? Because just a reminder that if you’re dead, we’re fucked.” Ellie said, referring to both of you, which seemingly brings Joel grounded remembering he is now a caretaker and guardian to the both of you, he turns to you as he assures, “I said I’m fine. It’s just the… cold air all of a sudden.”

You don’t buy it one bit but you don’t want to diagnose him immediately so you keep silent and listen to Ellie speak as she marches on forward while ducking under the wooden fence, “All right, uh… let’s go and find Tommy and, and the Fireflies.” Joel grunts and looks at you and you avert your eyes from him, quickly following Ellie.

“It’s gonna be easy,” Ellie said, stumbling a little but marching on, “All we have to do is cross the River of Death.”

All the bruises seem to surface like mud beneath the snow, your feet dug into the snow, a small thin path of footprints lay behind me, telling me where you have come from, but not where you are going. The winds were cold, almost freezing your skin with a simple touch. The icy winds blew against your jacket, the fabric keeping you warm, enough to feel comfortable but not to keep your cold thoughts away. You knew about Jackson, but you weren’t entirely sure where exactly the town was. You silently hope Tommy was fine and nothing had changed.

You gazed around the land, nothing but unending snow and ice, almost a hint that this land had gotten incredibly secluded through the years. After the trees reached the sky, children laughed and played, and the sounds of birds chirping in the woods woke me up from my long rest. It was almost as if the world itself was a part of you, but now that everything has turned frigid and awful, you hardly recognize it.

You see a river stream to your left, Ellie stops to look at it and rolls her eyes as she sarcastically says, “The River of Death. Scary.” Joel sighs, “Don’t start. It’s too close to dark. There’s some caves along the river. We’ll set up camp there, cross in the mornin’.” Ellie smiles, “Good. I’m starving. Should’ve stolen two rabbits.” You ruffle her hair a little bit and Joel replies, “We can get our own rabbits.”

Ellie excitedly asks as she looks up at Joel, “You gonna teach me how? You taught Birdie.” You bite back a smile from the memory, his entire firm body was behind you, hands on either side of you, the ghost of his breath as he whispered instructions creating a trail of goosebumps. If you were being honest, you were very close to kissing him, but you were too afraid to mess it all up, to ask if he felt it too, and continued to wait for him to be ready. “Just keep movin’.” Joel dismisses her and the girl sighs in frustration and exhaustion. You look to Joel, your eyes gazing into his brown ones, hoping that if you stare long enough you could magically read his mind, then turned to trail after Ellie.

WYOMING WILDERNESS, CAVE – NIGHT

Your campfire appeared to echo the starlight and bounced off the walls of the small cave as if the flames so close and so distant had so very much to say to one another. It crackled and spat before hissing into life. Its lambent light stole away the velvet-black shadows dancing on the wall. As that dry, withered stump slowly releases years and years of energy soaked up from the sun, the air, and the ground around it, outcome bright lights, whispering hisses, sizzling pops, and a thick, intoxicating smell of musky smoke and pine needles.

You sit atop a large rock by the edge with Ellie, both of your heads are tilted up, black heavens are the perfect stage upon which the brightest of hues dance. You could watch the aurora lights for infinity and always see that it is new, a unique moment and beauty in all of existence. Rays of light fall from the sky, making drapes that stretch across the sky. And they are reminiscent of fluttering drapes or curtains in the wind. There is also a violet and a crimson trim at the bottom and top ends. Sometimes the hues are blended together and braided into one another. New beams of light streaming down from space cause the curtains to vanish and reappear.

Joel looks up to find you both whispering and giggling, you are pointing up at the sky and moving excitedly as you explained the glow from the stars and the infinite rays of light creating waves in the cold midnight sky. He watches Ellie lean her head on your shoulder and you gently rub her back, eventually giving her a light squeeze as a form of a side hug. He brings his fingers to his lips, and a shrill attention-grabbing pierces through the air, both of you swiftly turn your attention to Joel who says, “Come down from there. You’re both gonna break your necks.”

You and Ellie make your way down the high rock, and both of you walk to Joel who was sipping from his flask. Ellie curiously asks Joel, “Ahh… Can I have some?” He shakes his head at her, “No.” The fourteen-year-old whines, “What? Just to warm up. C’mon.” Joel looks at you, and you were surprised he wanted your input or permission. You simply nodded, letting him give the metal flask to Ellie which she receives with a bright smile, she raises it in thanks and takes a large sip. Her face twists into a sour expression, her eyes shut for a brief moment while her eyebrows meet in the middle, “Yep… still gross.” Ellie hands it back to Joel and he asks if you want some to which you respond with a shake of your head. She lets out a little cough and Joel quietly sips from his flask.

“So, I’ve been thinking. Let’s say we find the Fireflies, it all works, they draw my blood and put it through some of their fancy machines and make a cure.” Ellie says and you watch Joel shift his eyes a bit, trying to figure out where this is heading, “Okay?” Ellie raises her eyebrows as she asks aloud, “Then what? Like, what do we do?” Joel raises his defenses, trying to keep the invisible bricks intact steady, “Oh, it’s ‘we’?” Unintentionally you sigh loudly in exasperation, looking at Joel with your eyelids heavy, you nervously lick the bottom of your lip and cling to your patience as it slowly slips through your fingers like sand. Ellie also sighs and reforms her question, “Okay, fine. Whatever. You. Her. You both can do anything you want. Where are you going? What are you doing?”

Joel clears his throat, “It’s never been an option. Maybe… an old farmhouse, some land… a ranch.” Ellie encourages him to continue, “Cool. What kind?” He replies while he smugly looks at Ellie “Sheep. I would raise sheep. They’re quiet… do what they’re told.” Ellie rolls her eyes and nods, “Yeah, yeah. Okay. So, just you and a buncha sheep. Romantic.” You smile at the thought of him living a domesticated life, no more danger or violence, just simple and safe. Joel hesitates a little before asking Ellie, “And what about you? Where are you gonna go?”

She raises her head high, looking up at the full midnight moon glimmering bright along with the twinkling stars, “It’s probably cause I grew up in the QZ. Behind you, there’s ocean, and ahead of you, there’s a wall. Nowhere else to look but up. I read everything I could in the school library. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell. But you know who my favorite is?” You create creases beneath your eyes as you smile widely, having a pretty good guess as to who. You and Joel say the same thing at the same time, “Sally Ride.” Ellie grins, “Sally fuckin’ Ride! Best astronaut name ever. How about you Birdie?” You blink twice, “What?” She raises an eyebrow, “What are you gonna do when after I save the world? Are you gonna try to go back to your world or whatever?”

You've trusted and refused every compass you've followed, and the same is true of an ever-changing concept of right. You wrap your arms around your middle, and your shoulders rise and fall as you breathe, “Um… I actually haven’t thought about that. I don’t know.” She looks at you with confusion and questions “Don’t you want to go back home?” Her inquiry causes you to shrink into yourself a little more, not wanting to answer, craving to distance yourself from Joel and Ellie’s gaze. You swallow nervously and look down at your worn-out boots, “I… Maybe. It might take a long time before I could figure out something. But to be honest Ellie, I never felt… at home there. So many things that I had before, but they don't matter to me now.”

Then it becomes quiet for a bit, you watch Ellie blink a couple of times, the crackling bright glow of the orange fire illuminating on side of her face, as she begins to question the future before her, she couldn’t help but wonder, “It’ll work, right? The vaccine?” Joel looks down unsure, “It’s a little late to start wonderin’.”

“I tried, with Sam,” Ellie says as she doesn’t bring her eyes to either of you, your eyes soften at her admittance, none of you have talked about what had happened, not wanting to dwell on the past too much, but to hear her finally bring it up giving you a sense of pride, for her to have the courage to speak about something so traumatic. Joel continued the conversation by asking her what she meant, “Tried what?” She still couldn’t bring herself to look at either of you, choosing to gaze into the campfire, “I knew he was infected. I rubbed some of my blood into his bite. I know, I know, it was stupid. But I… I wanted to save him.” Joel softly says, the wind carrying his words into the night, “Well, I reckon it’s a lot more complicated than that. Marlene, she’s a lotta things, but… she’s no fool. If she says they can do it, they can do it.” Ellie doesn’t say anything as she nods and he takes a large gulp from his flask, throwing his head back as he does.

The fire crackles loudly, but Ellie’s voice could be heard as she asked, “You wanna take first watch or second?” Joel grunts out, “I’ll do both. Get some sleep.” You opened your mouth to dispute him, saying that you could do the first watch but he doesn’t let you get a single syllable in as he narrows his eyes at you, “No.” You huff in annoyance and say nothing. You and Ellie get up to go deeper into the cave as Joel says to the both of you while grabbing his rifle, “Dream of… going home to sheep ranches on the moon.” Ellie gives him another nod, “I will.”

WYOMING WILDERNESS, CAVE – EARLY MORNING

The snow forest feels to the rest of the world like a gift waiting to be opened. Upon the ascent of the daylight, the wilderness is so bitter cold. It exudes a clean aura that invites the soul to pause for a minute and allow the sight to permeate the soul. You live in the moment, the past is always gone, and each day is something new, a stepping stone into a future you dream of even in the cold. The last of the morning stars were blinking out tragically above you. They glowed like bling-silver grains of sand in the early sky. It was a sight to see as their bejeweled splendor faded into nothingness. A ghostly, orb-white winter moon lingered there, eerily similar to a faint strobe light. A halo of brilliant golden encircled its waning brilliance. The sky around it was a vast sheet of grate-grey, with a plum-purple hue near the horizon.

You woke up a bit earlier than usual, and you found Joel passed out, laying on his side and using his jacket as a pillow. You could hear the birds squawking from above the trees, and see the campfire had dimmed. Quietly, you pushed yourself up and grabbed the rifle he had left beside him. You did the usual checks to ensure the safety of everyone, and to see if there were any tracks or unwanted animals lurking around. So far, luckily, you three were safe for the time being.

You made your way back to the cave, finding Ellie alert and awake. She looks at Joel and then back at you, and you raise your finger to your lips, indicating that she should let Joel rest and be quiet. The young girl nods in understanding, silently walking towards you, the both of you taking watch. You let Ellie practice what Joel had taught her and let her hold the rifle in the meantime. And she did everything perfectly.

As time passed and the sun began to rise from the east, you hear Joel mumble in his sleep. You tuned your ears to his whimpers and mumbling, catching the words, “Supposed to be me… Supposed to…” You frown in understanding and worry, you had your fair share of nightmares fueled by guilt. Joel startles awake, gasping for air as he pushes himself up frantically searching for his rifle, only to find you and Ellie standing guard. Ellie couldn’t help herself as she quips, “Still mumbling in your sleep. Birdie and I woke up early. You were passed out, so we both took second watch.”

Joel’s fury sprang to life as he stood up, “You gotta wake me up if that happens. Both of you can’t do things like this.” You felt a flash of irritation as you say to him, “But we can… ‘cause we just did.” He’s quiet for a moment, caught off guard by your reaction, then he speaks, “I’m responsible for both of you, okay?” Ellie is quick to throw back, “Then don’t fall asleep.” She began to recount detail and instruction Joel had given her before when he taught her while you proudly smirk at him, “What can I say, man? I’m a natural.” Joel grouchily nods, “Uh-huh.” And gestures to her to give him back the rifle, he nods at her in approval this time, “You wake me up next time.” Ellie rolls her eyes and smiles sarcastically, “Yes, sir. But you should know that Birdie woke up before me.”

Your eyes widen at her, “Ellie, don’t throw me under the bus!” She chuckles at you as Joel gives you a pointed look and you raise your eyebrows at him, daring him to try and argue, instead he just shakes his head, “Let’s get goin’.”

The cold air stung your cheeks and you pulled your scarf up closer to your face. As you looked around you took notice of the white blanket of snow covering the trees, ground, and mountains. The smell of damp pine trees made the air feel fresh and clean. The world around you was frozen in a glaring white quiet. Nothing made a sound, nothing moved, nothing sang. Winter's slavering teeth have vanished. Its piercing winds had stripped the trees of their final leaves, leaving them naked and brooding in a harsh world. They were groaning beneath the weight of the snow, encased in their medical coats. A great limb would occasionally groan, shatter, and collapse. It sounded like an explosion went off in the jungle. Apart from that, the woodland was engulfed in an eerie stillness. There was no morning chorus, sound symphony, or avian orchestra. The entire globe was encased in a dome of quiet. Winter's lethal grasp has strangled and suffocated all life on the planet. Snowflakes fluttered down on the three of you, sylph-like in their airy quiet. They glinted like crushed diamond dust as they landed. A shimmering winter scape of white and silver.

The sudden gunshot disrupted the peace of the forest, and the startled geese began to honk and fly off into the distance, Joel waits for a bit to ensure it was safe to cross the bridge, Ellie observes, waiting for something to happen, but nothing does, “The River of Death. Still no people.” Joel grumbles out, “Fine.” Then proceeds to stand up, and walk to the entrance of the bridge as you and Ellie closely follow him from behind.

As you continue to make your way across the bridge, Ellie tries to whistle like Joel, however, no high pitch sound comes out, just puffs of air. Joel turns around in confusion, and Ellie’s reply is muffled by her fingers, “I’m learning how to whistle.” And Joel looks at her incredulously, “You don’t know how to whistle?” She retorts, “Does it sound like I know how to whistle?” He says the obvious, “No.” You laugh, letting yourself enjoy the little moments of peace with the two. “Seriously, though, how the fuck do you do that?” Ellie asks walking a little bit ahead and you walking side-by-side with Joel, he harrumphs, “Talent.” And you lightly smack his arm at his response, and you swore you saw him give you a small smile, Ellie mutters, “Whatever. You should teach me how to hunt.”

“Huh.” Joel states, and Ellie mocks him, “‘Huh’. Like. ‘She’s a girl. She can’t handle it.’” Joel speaks as he trudges through the snow, “You can handle the shootin’. Not so sure about the dressin’.” Ellie sighs, “What’s the dressin’?” You and Joel walk a little bit past her and he replies, “The part where you take the guts out.” And your nose scrunches up at the thought while Ellie says, “Oh, yeah. Why do they call it dressing? It’s like you should call it undressing ‘cause it is. It’s like… undressing from the inside.” She paused for a bit to catch her breath before saying, “Still interested, though.”

The sound of water rushing fills your ears as you waddled through the snow, stumbling upon a large structure. Dams were mechanical temples that harnessed the victorious powers of water, power, and terrestrial fertility for human advantage. “Dam.” Ellie said, and you rolled your eyes in amusement while Joel tells her, “You’re no Will Livingston.” She quickly throws back at him, “Yeah, yeah, but who is? So that made electricity?” Referencing the Dam in front of them, Joel mutters, “Yeah. Don’t ask me. I don’t have a clue.” Ellie laughs, “You know, you could’ve just made something up. I would’ve believed you.” Joel answers, “Ask Birdie, she’s practically a walking encyclopedia.”

“I don’t know whether to be offended or amazed at the fact you know what an encyclopedia is.” You quip at him with a smirk and his lip quirks up in a small smirk at you, and his eyes twinkle with mischief and desire as his pupils slightly darken, “Smartass.” You winked at him, “You like it.”

“Damn right.” He said with his eyes unwavering from yours, and you felt every atom in your body spark to life. Joel’s heavy breathing stirred the tiny hairs on your neck, sending a shiver into every cell of your body. Ellie disrupted you both as she makes a disgusted groan, “If the two of you are done flirting can we please keep moving?” The heat of embarrassment rushed into your face, leaving you speechless as you decide to break away from his stare and keep marching forward.

“Look at that river. It’s crazy blue.” Ellie said then was immediately quiet after, somewhere between then and now irony slipped its way into her vocabulary, laughter became an anecdote for guilt, sacrifice grew to be a band name for shame and unnecessary death became a nightmare that rode her piggyback. At this point, the thought suddenly struck her, “Hey, Joel, Birdie… what if this is the River of Death?”

Joel grabs the map from his jacket pocket and unfolds it, checking to see if Ellie was right. The cold wind harshly bit into your skin as you three stared at the crystal blue river. At first, you couldn’t see them, but you could hear them—the snapping of twigs, the crunch of snow, and the clopping sound of horse hoofs. There were more than one, more than three, and they were closing in. Joel tried to grab you and Ellie to run, but they were too quick, and organized, and had you surrounded in seconds with their guns and rifles pointed at you. “Get behind me,” Joel said, slightly pushing both of you behind his tall frame. You all raised your hands up, and showed no sign of aggression, Joel shouts, “We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble. We’re just passin’ through.”

“Drop the gun,” the harsh voice ordered in front of you, Joel does as he’s told and so do you. “Both of you… take five steps back.” the man says, and Joel tries to reason with him, “How ‘bout we just talk this through?” And the unknown man unrelentingly replies, “How ‘bout you shut the fuck up?” Joel's shoulders tense, “Okay, easy.” He turns to both of you, Ellie has her eyes wide open and mouth slightly parted, her hands slightly quivering and you trying to steady your breathing, “You’ll both be okay.”

You follow the orders given to you and take five steps back and you hear the man ask, “You been near Infected?” And Joel replies, “There’s no Infected out here.” He doesn’t buy it one bit and retorts, “The hell there ain’t.” He whistles and you hear a short, abrupt vocalization, relatively loud and high-pitched, changes in frequency, the bark of an excited dog, “Last chance for a bullet. If you’ve been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.”

The black large dog continues to bark and its handler removes his leash, he prances over to Joel, sniffing him up and down, jumps up to place his paws on his stomach, looks at him then whines, not finding any indication of the virus. The dog walks back over to his handler for a treat while Joel’s Texan accent becomes heavy, “Like I said… we’ll just move on.” The man still has his rifle pointed at you as he sits atop his horse, he nods over in your and Ellie’s direction, “Now both of them.”

Your heart drops, and you hear Ellie’s breathing become shaky. The flip in your stomach takes over all of your senses, you are frozen and unmoving as you watch the dog crouch lowly and growl at you and Ellie. Joel turns back to glance at you both and you’re worriedly looking at him. He turns around, not bringing himself to watch, the world becomes quiet, the silent ringing returns, and his lungs are clawing for air. It brings him back to that moment when the world took her away, his Sarah, the powerlessness and helplessness feeling that had followed him over the past twenty years. The weight of the world was placed on his shoulders that faithful day.

The sound of a high-pitched bark brings him back to the present, he hears you and Ellie giggle and turns to find you and her completely fine, happily rubbing and petting the dog as the creature licks and wags its tail. The man whistles and the dog is called away, you and Ellie stand up from the snow and hear the leader say, “You just bought yourself ten more seconds. What are you doin’ out here?” Joel quickly replies, “I’m just lookin’ for my brother. That’s all, nothin’ more.” A beautiful woman, whose skin was as rich and deep as any stately home mahogany, exclaims, “Ho!” And walks her horse forward, “What’s your name?” He answers breathlessly, “Joel.” And his name became the key, the password, and the answer, for them to escort you into their town.

You three were given and allowed to ride your own horses, the cold wind rushing past me. The sun’s rays of light are covered by the darkness of the clouds. Hooves, galloping along the plush white snow, the loud clopping and crunch fill your ears as you hold onto the reins. In the distance, you see a large wooden wall with a giant gate, men and women stationed on top, ready to shoot any intruders. One of the men raises a red bandana, a signal to one of the guards on watch.

The large gate opens for all of you, the horses begin to trot at a normal pace as you take in the sight of Jackson. Underneath you are fluffy, cold snow. The sounds of slush fill your ears. You watch as the misty fog escapes your mouth anytime you take a breath. Every time you inhale a frigid prickle enters your lungs and every time you exhale the heat from your breath warms your lips. Around you are naked trees covered in powder-white snow, glistening in the daylight. The town is neatly arranged, and it felt comfortable and safe. You spot the Tipsy Bison on the right, a location you recognized, then bring your eyes to observe the people around you. A thriving and collaborative community, stable enough to provide and care for the elderly and children.

You continue on forward, spotting Tommy on top of the scaffolding, helping with construction work. You angle your head to look at Joel as he shouts at the top of his lungs, “Tommy!” His brother stops what he’s doing to look at Joel, then he proceeds to run down the steps leading up to the scaffolding, Joel urgently dismounts from his horse, and the people around town watch as the two brothers reunite, a large impactful hug from the both of them, secure and firm. Their shoulders move up and down as the two laugh loudly, finally, all of the pieces align and the balance is clearly defined, he sighs and settles down for the first time.

Tommy smiles as he asks his older brother, “What the fuck are you doin’ here?” Joel looks at you and Ellie for a second before back to Tommy, replying, “I came here to save you.” Joel begins to laugh again, his chuckle a melody you’ve rarely heard before, a sound you keep in your back pocket just in case.

You bring your gaze to Ellie, whose expression is mixed and jealous, sensing that she’s now a bit less important in Joel’s life. You look back at the two brothers, turning down the volume of your heart, the massive table of countless dominos, all lined up and weaving in and out of each other, every relationship and decision in every piece of domino, subconsciously shrinking the row of dominos the best you can. Eliminating your opinions or wants and desires, convincing yourself that this will be simple by just focusing on the needs of everyone else but yourself. The only form of control you’ve had looks like empathy to understand all sides.

MESS HALL, JACKSON COUNTY, WYOMING – AFTERNOON

The mess hall was large, warm, and inviting. The indistinct chatter fills the giant wooden cabin, lightbulbs twinkling from above, and dining tables lined up neatly. Ellie was sat in between you and Joel, she is scarfing down her food, eagerly eating everything that was on her plate and so was Joel. You were meekly eating, trying to not draw attention to yourself, as you quietly chewed on your potatoes. “There’s more if you need it.” And you soon come to realize that this must be Maria, the way Tommy’s body language is drawn and pulled close to her, you smile when you hear Joel reply politely, “Thank you, ma’am.” And you also offer your thanks to her and she nods in your direction in acknowledgment. Joel cuts into his food as he says, “It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper meal.” Ellie pipes in, “Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal. This is fuckin’ amazing.” You wince in second-hand embarrassment and so does Joel, he turns to Maria, “Sorry. Ellie… let’s mind our manners.” Tommy smirks knowingly. At one moment, another girl furtively looks at Ellie, until Ellie loudly says “What?!” and scares her off. Joel’s lips turn down and his eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What’s wrong with you?” Ellie doesn’t relent, “What about her manners?”

“She was just curious. Kids around here don’t usually look or talk like you.” Maria points out and Ellie nods, “Right… well, maybe I’ll teach them. And I want my gun back.” Maria shakes her head, “They also aren’t armed.” The young brave girl glares at her in response, Tommy decides to step in, “You know what? Uh… I think maybe ya’ll got a little off on the wrong foot.” Ellie raises her tone and points out, “She was gonna have our guys kill us.” Joel gives her a pointed look, an indication for her to stop being disrespectful but Tommy calmly responds, “Well, we gotta be real careful about who we let in this place. But it’s all bark. We’re just trying to scare off those who might wanna try us is all.” Ellie nonchalantly says, “Well you got a couple of ninety-year-olds who shitting themselves out there.” You and Joel chastise her quickly, “Ellie.” But she doesn’t care, “They say that you leave dead bodies around?” Maria doesn’t deny the ugly truth, “Those are the people who tried us.” Tommy adds, “A bad reputation doesn’t mean you’re bad.” Maria narrows her eyes at Joel as she comments, “Not always, at least.” You feel your anger flare up from your chest as you grip your knife tighter, glaring at Maria for suggesting such a thing.

Joel swallows down his food and his shame, “Ma’am… we’re grateful for your hospitality and all. But it’d be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family.” You place an elbow on the table, using your hand to hide your face in embarrassment as you squirm in your chair, you hear Tommy clear his throat, “Well um…” You peek past your hand and watch him grab Maria’s hand, spotting the wedding band on his left ring finger, “Maria is family, actually.” Ellie blinks in surprise as she says, “Oh, shit! Congrats.” You bring your eyes to Joel’s unmoving figure, frozen in shock from the sudden news as his breathing becomes unsteady, Ellie softly whispers to him, “Joel, say congrats.” The all-too-familiar cold tone is unmistakable as he grits his teeth to say, “Congrats.” There’s an awkward silence between the two parties, and you take a large gulp of your water and Tommy offers, “How ‘bout a tour.” You nod as you’re the first one to get up from your chair, not liking the possibility of conflict between the two brothers, “Yes, please.”

JACKSON, WYOMING – AFTERNOON

The town had a large plaza, and a giant vibrant Christmas tree in the center, Maria spoke as she walked, and the rest of you followed, “We settled here about seven years ago. Just a handful of us back then.” She points out a section of the town, “That section was already a gated community, so we built the rest of the wall out from there. Stopped most of the raiding parties, but we still find pockets of them.” Joel warily looks around, “And you said Infected?” Tommy nods, “Yeah, but usually in smaller colonies, wandered off from the cities. All this open country out there… it’s a turkey shoot. I still got my 700, but I found a variable power scope. Sub MOA. Can headshot those fuckers from half a mile out.”

“Can you teach me how?” Ellie asks and Joel is quick to respond for him, “No, he can’t. How do you keep this place quiet?” Maria replies, “Carefully. Being in the middle of nowhere helps. Not advertising what we have, staying off the radio.” Joel stares at his brother and Tommy shrinks away from his pointed look, you listen to Maria as she explains the purpose of each building, “House of worship, multifaith. School. Laundry. Old bank works as a jail, not that we’ve needed it.” Joel looks to one of the electric poles, “And you draw power from the dam?” Maria confirms his suspicion, nodding, “Got that workin’ a couple years ago. After that, sewage, plumbing, water heaters… lights.” Ellie shakes her head, seemingly impressed, “This place actually fuckin’ works.”

The group makes their way to the farm, and a herd of sheep passes by, and Ellie points it out as she smiles at him, “Hey, Joel, check it. Baa.” Ellie playfully swings her arms back and forth as she asks Maria, “Are you, like, in charge?” She looks at Tommy for a bit before replying, “No one person’s in charge. I’m on the council. Democratically elected, serving three hundred people, including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repairs, hunting, harvesting.” Tommy picks off where she left off, “Everything you see in our town… greenhouses, livestock, all shared. Collective ownership,” to which Joel replies, "So, uh, communism." Tommy's knee-jerk reaction is, "Nah. Nah, it ain't like that." His discomfort with the term pulls from over a century of distortion of the fundamental principles of communism. “It is that, literally. This is a commune. We're communists," Maria states modestly, to which Tommy’s discomfort at the thought causes him to stagger a bit, to which you offer, “I can try and explain it later.” Tommy nods in thanks and you give him a reassuring smile.

“No way!” Ellie exclaims as she makes her way to the stables, Maria trails behind her and you follow the two ladies, “That’s our newest one. Couple months old. You wanna pet her?” Ellie’s smile is as bright as the sun and her teeth as white as the snow beneath you, wide and happy, “Yeah, what’s her name?” Ellie asks to which Maria replies, “Shimmer.” Your smile falters a bit, recognizing the name from the second game, but you shake it off, not wanting to keep looking into the future. “Shimmer you’re so beautiful,” Ellie says as she pets the pony gently, completely enamored by her beauty and gentle grace. Maria turns to Tommy and discusses the possible sleeping arrangement, “Well, I’m sure they’d like a shower, some new clothes. We can put them in the empty house across the street from us.” Her husband nods in agreement, “Yeah. It’s a decent place. Pretty much untouched since the ‘03, but it’s got the heat goin’ in it. Could do worse.” Ellie carelessly remarks, “Oh, trust me, we have been.”

Joel has his eyes narrowed and annoyed, “We’ve been doin’ fine.” You get the slight feeling he’s being defensive, and Maria looks at you and Ellie, and tells her husband, “Well I’ll take her and Ellie over there if you two wanna catch up.” Tommy then looks to his older brother for approval and Joel nods, “Yeah. Okay.” You and Ellie whip your head to face Joel, slightly unnerved and fearful of the unknown, and potentially Joel pushing you both away. “Joel.” Ellie says and he brushes her off as he walks away, “You’ll be fine.” Maria asks the both of you, “Shall we?” And having no choice but to follow her you both nod, “Uh, yeah.”

THE RANCH, MASTER BEDROOM

JACKSON, WYOMING – AFTERNOON

The warm hot shower soothes your skin as you wash off the grime and dirt of the last few months. At some point, you had decided to sit down in the bathtub of the shower, letting the water hit your skin freely, your eyes distant and gaze unsteady as you watch the steam of the shower move to the light. You hug your knees close to your chest, rest your chin on your knees, and finally let yourself go.

The haze takes over your vision, a sculpture of water and unsettled dust, and your exhausted mind only wants to be carried home. So you fight with the concept of grace while attempting to hold everything in place. You were so full of life that you could barely hold it in. You were amateurs at war, strangers to suffering. Your questions ricochet like broken satellites. How did your bodies, born to heal, become so prone to die? Your nights have grown so long and now you beg for sound advice, time has been ruthless and unkind, every turn in the corner of the maze only to be faced with a dead end, the trapdoors you couldn’t see, and the lives that were lost to your journey to Jackson. You felt so vulnerable and fragile, the fact that the foundation of society was shaken to its core due to the pandemic, governments, families, and lives as you know them, will never be the same again. As life replayed, you hear the voice in the back of your mind proclaim, to let the brokenness be felt until you reach the other side.

The sting in your eyes as the tears escape from your eyes, allows for the cold embrace of the depression you’ve kept hidden and at bay for so long. Sometimes you pretend you are evergreen and keep your cards close to your chest. But this time you allow yourself the reprieve, as you quietly sob into your hands and gasp for air now and then, letting every little fracture of you shatter out loud. Wondering if your messes mattered and if all the chaos counted as you felt empty-handed. You had set sail along the universe's ocean of the unknown with cheap wood and tried to patch up every leak that you could until the blame grew too heavy.

You reflected on the world that you were unintentionally placed in, presenting the world through a different lens, a world that turned hostile and dangerous. But a story that explored how nevertheless you can still find love and meaning, the longing for human connections, and how willing you are to sacrifice everything to safeguard the people you love.

You hadn’t planned on it, the greater weight of the truth settling inside of you. Fundamental resilience and a built-in resistance, and against your judgment, prevent you from completely surrendering yourself from truly giving up on being human. You open your eyes and slowly rise to your feet, placing your palm on the wall, you blink and try to look past the undefined and fragile promise at the light at the end of the tunnel. You nod, shakily you breathe, and whisper to no one in particular, “I guess that’s how it goes.”

After the mental breakdown in the shower, you stepped out of the bathroom fresh and felt a little bit lighter. You lift your chin a little higher and open your eyes a little wider despite the puffiness in your eyes. You are wrapped in a towel, and as you make your way to the foot of the bed, you find fresh clean clothes to wear and a menstrual cup. You smile at the thoughtful gift and find a note, that reads ‘I’m just across the street. Come by when you’re done.’

You get dressed and make your way down the hall to Ellie’s room, you knock on her door and call for her, “Ellie? You there?” When no reply came, you slowly opened the door to find her gone and after investigating a little bit, you see a similar note from Maria. You figured she had already gone over. You leave her room and walk across the street to Maria’s house, knocking on the door and Ellie opening the door for you. You smile at her as you walk inside, appreciating the warmth already provided by the fireplace.

You take a good look at the living room, yellow curtains by the window, a messy coffee table with an unsolved crossword, and a large cozy couch facing the fireplace as it crackles and roars. Your eyes catch the small blackboard sitting on top of the fireplace with two candles on each side. Ellie walks over to it and you follow closely behind her as she stares up at the two names. Kevin and Sarah, with the dates, that they were born and taken away too soon from this world.

You let out an uneven exhale and feel your frown deepen, as the flashbacks of Joel’s life come back to you in a blur. The scream for mercy, watching him tear apart with each cry and wail from his hoarse voice. The day the world ended was the same day his world ended. Something broken that cannot be fixed. You both turn your heads to the sound of the back door opening, Maria enters bringing the cold wind with her until she closes the door behind her, “Oh, good. Just traded for these two. Go ahead, try it on.” She hands Ellie a deep purple long coat while yours is A sophisticated medium gray with the barest hint of violet. The young girl comments as she wears her purple puffer coat, “It’s, uh, super fuckin’ purple.” You bend down a little to help Ellie with her coat, fixing the collar and the lining, Maria nods, “Eggplant. It fits?” Ellie replies, “Yeah.” Maria continues to fuss over her as you put on your coat, “Shoes aren’t too big?” She answers, “Uh, no. Where’s our other stuff?” Maria lifts her shoulders, “Rag pile. Did you both get the thing I left you?” You merely nod while Ellie bluntly replies, “Yeah. Weirdest gift ever.” Maria nods in agreement but says, “But useful. Who’s been cutting your hair?”

“Uh, world-class salons,” Ellie says plainly and it earns a laugh from you and Maria, “Let me get my scissors.” Ellie’s mouth opens to protest but Maria doesn’t let her argue, “Trim. That’s all. Just the ends, I promise. And her too, she’ll go first so you can see that you have nothing to worry about.” Referring to you as she walks to the kitchen. You ruffle Ellie’s hair and whisper to her, “Just let her,” to which she sighs and takes a seat on one of the dining table chairs.

The trim was much needed. Maria had cut your hair in the style you wanted with such precision and skill. You happily thanked her with a polite smile, sat down on one of the other chairs, and let Ellie go next, of course, Ellie being the curious kid she is, begins to interrogate Maria, “So, this was, like, your job back then or something?” The sharp snips of scissors fill the silence for a bit before she answers, “No, I was an Assitant District Attorney out of Omaha, Nebraska. I put the bad guys in jail. I always liked doing hair though. Maybe it was a mom thing.”

“Damn, that’s pretty impressive.” You said and she gives you her thanks and asks, “What did you do for work?” Your smile falters, “Um, I used to be a researcher, a Quantum physicist.” The quiet was nice for a moment before she comments, “You both were looking at the little memorial Tommy made?” Ellie answers for the both of you, “Uh, yeah.” She stumbles on her words, “I’m- I’m sorry about your kids.” Your nails dig into your palm and listen to Maria reply, “It’s okay. And kid. Just Kevin. Sarah was Joel’s daughter.”The heavy silence that follows tells Maria that Ellie didn’t know that before, and you find it harder to breathe, “Oh, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, it’s okay. I guess that explains him a little,” Ellie says and she brings her eyes to you, “Did you know?” You squirm, the feeling of deja vu from when you first heard those words from Joel, the accusatory glance, and the betrayal in her eyes. “Yes,” You said and she scoffs at you, “Why? Why didn’t you say anything?” You pull back and raise your eyebrows at her, “You and I both know that was never my story to tell or share. No amount of knowledge will ever excuse the fact that I can never talk about what happened without Joel’s explicit consent.” Ellie resigns from her lashing out and nods at you with understanding, and you simply sighed. Maria chimes in, “Look, I’m not gonna ask you what you both are doing with him.”

“Good.” You and Ellie say at the same time, quickly protective of Joel but Maria continues with her statement, “But there are clearly things you both don’t know about Joel.” You glare at Maria while the teen remains typically testy, “Oh, like how he used to kill people? We know about that.” Ellie rebukes with vigor and impresses Maria with it somewhat, “So then you understand my concern.” Ellie’s anger flares, “He doesn’t do that anymore.” And Maria is quick to question, “He stopped killing people?”

“Innocent ones. And Tommy did it, too. Are you worried about him?” she asks to which Maria’s lips form a thin line, “Tommy was following Joel. The way you both are.” Seemingly sees Joel as a bad influence, someone who pulls people into his orbit and leaves harm in his wake. “Well, maybe, we’re smarter than Tommy. No offense.” Ellie states and you sense distrust in Maria, “You are definitely smart. Both of you. You would have made a hell of a lawyer, Ellie.” The woman says as she puts away her scissors and stands in front of you and Ellie, “There’s a whole lot you’re not telling me.” None of you answer, to which Maria nods, “Good. Therein lies the point. Be careful who you put your faith in,” she warns you and Ellie. “The only people who can betray us… are the ones we trust.” Ellie clearly resents the advice and Maria’s distrust of Joel, perhaps because she senses there’s a good reason for it and none of you want to admit it.

“You understand?” Maria asks and you both hum in acknowledgment. “Now come on.” She says as she walks to remove the towel around Ellie’s shoulders, “Grab your super fuckin’ eggplant coat.” You allow yourself to laugh at the callback and get up from your own seat, shuffling to put on your gray coat to which you hear Ellie ask, “Where are we going?” Maria smiles, “The movies.” Ellie sighs and ties her hair back, while you say, “I’m actually gonna go for a walk. Get familiar with the surroundings. You okay to go by yourself, Ellie?” The brave teen nods, “Mhm. I’ll see you back at the house.”

“Tell me what you think of the movies later, okay?” You say and she smiles and agrees, “Okay.” You tuck your hands in the pockets of your coat, yelling a thank you and goodbye to Maria as you headed outside to the cold winter of Jackson.

MAIN STREET

JACKSON, WYOMING – SUNSET

You tried your best to help around as much as you could with the stables and the children, doing some work to pass the time. The clouds collected again around sunset, bringing an earlier night, and the snow began to fall straight and slowly from a sky devoid of wind, in a gentle universal dispersion more perplexing than the morning's blasts. It appeared to be a part of the growing darkness, the cold night itself falling on you layer by layer.

The amber glow of the string lights, the burn barrels doing their best to keep parts of the area warm, the steam following the wind but the bright glow of the fire emitting from inside shine through. Most people at this hour have already decided to go to the dining hall to watch the rest of the movie, but you continued to wander around the empty main street of Jackson.

The world is an outline of shapes you used to know, hidden in plain sight. The drapes suddenly pulled back slowly, as though pulling a ribbon. You've been distracted, but you're no longer trapped in the static. Despite the fact that your hands are prone to trial and error, you cross your fingers for anything to hold. Here in the shadows of letting go, you can't help but wish for a brighter future. You spot Ellie from a distance, her figure crouched down as she eavesdrops through the door of a nearby workshop. You tilt your head and quietly walk towards her, to which she still turns her head to you, lifting her finger on her lips indicating to be quiet. You decide to follow her request and crouch next to her, hearing Tommy and Joel quietly conversing with each other.

Joel started, “It was Marlene. She hired us to smuggle her to some Fireflies. It went bad. Tess got bit. She made me swear to take the kid. It was her dyin’ wish. What the hell was I supposed to do? We made it as far as K.C., and then… You know she saved my life there… from another kid. Birdie got hurt too… Five years ago, I would’ve destroyed him. But she had to shoot him to save me. Fourteen years old. Because I was too slow and too fuckin’ deaf to hear him comin’.” You shudder at the reminder and the two of you listened as Joel broke, bit by bit, his voice started to quiver, “And Birdie had to protect Ellie 'cause I asked her to… and she didn’t even have the experience or skill that I had… I saw… I saw a man kill his own brother… to save her, while I just watched. And today I thought that dog was gonna tear both of ‘em apart because it smelled somethin’ on them.”

“And all I did was stand there. I couldn’t… move. I couldn’t think of anything to say. I just… I was so afraid.” Joel’s breathing was ragged as he spoke, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios, “You think I can handle things, but… I’m not who I was. I’m weak.” He believes he bears little resemblance to the man he once was or could become. No action hero, he admits to being far less capable of recognizing and reacting to threats than he used to be, and to sometimes being paralyzed by fear. You slowly start to feel your eyes sting again as you hear the tremble in his voice, the brokenness you’re all too familiar with, “Lately, there are these moments where the fear comes up outta nowhere, and… my heart… feels like it’s stopped. And I have dreams. Every night.”

“What kinda dreams?” Tommy asks, and you listen to the triggered tripwire every time he breathes, the tremble in his voice gives you that he was beginning to cry, “I don’t know. I can’t remember. I just know that when I wake up… I’ve lost somethin’.” You allow your own tears to fall, covering your mouth to cover your whimpers as you listen to him admit, “I’m failin’ in my sleep. That’s all I do. It’s all I’ve ever done is fail them again and again.” Tommy states, “You want me to take them.” And Joel continues to cry as he says, “I’m just gonna get them killed. I know it. I have to leave them.” Tommy tries to call his name to calm him, “Joel.”

“I mean, it’s why you took off on me, right? To make up for the things we did?” Joel asks with a clear glaze in his eyes, he begs his younger brother, “Well, here’s your chance to bring your kid into a better world. You’re younger than me. You’re still strong. You said it yourself, you’ll come back. You have to take her. You have to give Birdie… that sweet, smark, and kind girl, a chance to live a life here. A normal life here. Please.”

You take Tommy’s silence as agreement and the tears fall from your cheeks as you try to muffle your cries. Joel breathes, “And you can’t tell anyone, not even Maria. Tommy, you’re the only one I trust. If anyone else sees those bites on her, on them both, what’s under their skin… they’ll shoot them. It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask of you. I swear.”

“I’ll take her out at dawn.” You hear Tommy say and Joel sigh of relief. You feel Ellie tug your coat sleeve, indicating you need to leave before they realized you had heard the entire conversation.

THE RANCH, MASTER BEDROOM

JACKSON, WYOMING – NIGHT

None of you spoke as the two of you walk into the night, heading back to the temporary house that they had provided. You opened the door for Ellie and she ran straight up to her room, while you walked up the steps to the master bedroom. You quietly shut your door sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed, you sniffed and try to will yourself to stop crying. You stared blankly at the floor as you swung your feet, patiently waiting and deciding what to do next.

The options you had were limited to figuring out how to get back to your previous observable universe or facing the truth about how you felt for Joel and your fondness for Ellie as if she were your own daughter. This meant admitting that you also needed to discuss what you wanted with Joel. To wake up and wage war with this gravity that has been holding you back for almost all of your life, the epiphany of finding so much worth fighting for, and either way all the lines of dominos will fall and cascade.

You were too in your head to hear the shouting from across the hall, the argument between Joel and Ellie, a crucial turning point in the central relationship. You hear the bits and pieces of their yelling and arguing, “You have no idea what loss is,” is a pretty awful thing for him to say. And in both, she tells him that everyone she’s ever cared about has either died or left her, “Everyone—fucking except for you. So don’t tell me that I would be safer with someone else because the truth is that I would just be more scared.” Joel’s painful response, “You’re right, you’re not my daughter, and I sure as hell ain’t your dad.” You flinch at that, “Now, come dawn… we’re goin’ our separate ways.” Then you hear the loud slamming of the door of Ellie’s room, and your own frown deepens, you feel your heart race, as if you feel the climb of the track of the rollercoaster, building you up and then taking you back. It’s a while before Joel decides to go to the bedroom, he had decided to sit in the living room to remember Sarah one last time before letting her go.

You anticipate Joel’s footsteps, the thud of each step, and hear your door open. Joel finds you sitting at the edge of the bed, hunched over, your hands shaking in your lap as you try and hold yourself together. The quiet dim glow of the yellow lamp by the bedside table illuminates your features. You don’t look at him as he calls your name, you choose to look at the floor, he tries again, softer, “Birdie…” You only blink in response, the only indication that you heard him at all, you hear him step a little closer to you, “How much did you hear?” In a barely audible response, you shakily whisper, “All of it.”

Joel began, “Birdie… it’s for the best if we–” You cut him off before he could even finish, sharply turning your head at him as you stood up, “Joel I can’t… I can’t keep doing this.” He feels breathless as he registers what you said, “What?” You blink back the tears and try to look him in the eye, a little more alive as you let the scale tip and feel all of it rushing through you like a restless river stream, you feel your chest expand as you breathe and say, “If you don’t want me… if you don’t feel anything for me. Just say it and tell me now and I’ll figure out how to get back home on my own. ‘Cause I can’t keep going like this… dancing around you and pretending I don’t have feelings for you.”

You shake your head, “I’ve spent my whole life asking and searching for the impossible and none of it made any sense to me… And then I… I found you and Ellie. For the first time, I felt whole.” Your hand clenches near your chest as you utter, “Was I just delusional or imagining things? ‘Cause all of this… push and pull is hurting me. Do you even want me?” Joel steps a little closer as he says, “Yes.” And you look up at him and take one step back, “Then… why? And don’t you fucking dare make it an age-gap excuse or I will kick you in the balls Miller.”

He stumbles over his words, “I’m afraid. I’m so, so, afraid Birdie. That I could fail to protect you, Sweet Girl. The light that you give, the kindness you’ve shown, I’m scared I might taint it. Take away something so good in this world. You deserve so much more than what I could give.” Your face pinches in frustration and tears fall down your face, your cheeks warm and eyes puffy from all the sobbing, “Don’t I get a say?” And he’s quick to tell you, “Of course you do.” You scoff and angrily wipe your eyes. You pause and take a good look at the man in front of you, it's a fire and a goddamn blaze in the dark and he started it, you say from across the room, “Then let me choose you, Joel. Please, please, don’t leave me here.” He’s quiet as he takes in your words, and you continue, it’s uncomfortable but right, you say, “I don’t care about what was written about in your history. In the end, I want more than the life that I choose, and I want it to be with you.”

The silence that fills the room is one of heaviness and anticipation. The churning fear that pours out of you, and the inheritance you did not seek or ask for. You watch as Joel breathes heavily at your confession, taking his time to process what you said and felt for him. Someone who he deemed no longer worthy of receiving love. Slowly, you show him who he is and who he could be, and try to initiate the heart, bringing himself to let it open up properly. All of a sudden, you changed his mind and pulled back the curtains a little at a time.

You were on a frequency, the perfect opposite of him. Though he never needed any proof to trust the heart that beats inside of you. He can't keep his head from spinning out of control, but he will try to breathe ‘til it becomes muscle memory. He’s only steady on his knees, but maybe with you, he’ll one day stand on his own two feet. To struggle gracefully and let the scaffolding inside of him be strong enough to hold his tired body up once more.

He licks his bottom lip out of nervousness, and directly looks you in the eye, “I want you, Birdie.” You feel the rush of heat through your body, and stutter, “W-What?” His gaze darkens as he looks at you with need and desire, seemingly made up his mind to just give in, to let himself want and need you. “I said, I want you Birdie. Will you be mine?” He takes a step closer to you and you stay frozen, eventually, he’s towering over your frame, his eyes so dark you can no longer see the honey-brown eyes you were familiar with. You can’t help it. You’re drawn in by the force and pressure of the tempest building in those damnable eyes. Your heart is loud as a drumline, the thumping noise and heat in your ears as you feel the magnetic pull into his warmth, you feel his breath against your lips as you whisper, “Yes.”

That’s all it took, and with slow deliberation looks at you up and down. His inspection seems to last for hours, though it must take only seconds. The air between you crackles, and you want to move toward him, to close the gap between you. But you stay rooted to the spot, waiting for him. He lingers for a moment on your lips before finally lifting his head to meet your eyes, and his lips meet yours. You didn’t grow up, we grew in, like ivy wrapping, molding each other into perfect yins and yangs. You kissed with mouths open, breathing his exhale into your inhale. You could have survived underwater or outer space, breathing only the breath you traded.

You felt his warm rough large hands bring one hand to your waist and the other to cup the side of your cheek as he kissed you. You felt the tickle of his facial hair on your cheek, and each breath and groan vibrated throughout your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, running your fingers rhythmically through his salt-and-pepper hair. Happily sighing breathlessly as he continues to kiss you dizzy. Like a whiskey, you can feel it he hits so strong but tastes so sweet.

The rush and thrill consumed you, the slick wetness between your thighs and his hands moving to cup and grab at your ass causing you to gasp in pleasure, to which Joel decides to pull your bodies closer ‘til no space lies in between. His presence was too powerful, his scent too all-consuming. It crowded your lungs, filling them with clean earthiness and rich spices. When you were around him, it was easy to lose myself, no matter how upset you were.

When he carefully dropped himself to the ground, the movement was both proud and obedient. His breath brushed over your skin. “Do you want this?” His fingers ran down the back of your leg, leaving a path of heat in their wake. Your thoughts were jumbled, but you had enough sense to realize this wasn't about sex. It was all about being vulnerable. It was a landmark event disguised as insignificant and distilled into one phrase. “Yes.” That was both demand and submission, a groan and a gasp. Joel exhaled. He carried you to the plush bed in the center of the room, appreciating everything you could give him. Clothes were quickly removed, and he stripped you down to your barest form while he kept his boxers on, an evident hard-on showing but choosing to take care of you first.

His palms burned as they parted your thighs. He’d barely touched you, and you were already on fire. You tipped your head back, drowning in arousal, heat, and lust and the reverence of his touch as he kissed his way up your thigh. His stubble rasped against your skin and sent tiny shocks of pleasure down your spine. As he separated your thighs, his palms seared. He hadn't even touched you yet, but you were still immediately burning. As he nibbled his way up your thigh, you threw your head back, reveling in pleasure, heat, lust, and the devotion of his touch.

“I'm sorry I offended you…” A gentle kiss at the fine line where your thigh meets your leg and persistent heat. “For attempting to drive you away…” Your underwear was removed and tossed to the side as he softly stroked your clit with his tongue. When he dragged your clit into his lips and sucked, his abrasive words mingled with your scream. Your body arched away from the bed. He began to worship you with his lips, hands, and tongue as your hands dug into his hair and you could barely hang on. Joel was rigid but beckoning. Delicate but sinful. You felt a new rush of pure sensation with every movement. Your chest and the base of your spine are both under pressure at the same time. You were soaring high solely on passion and desire, out of breath. He backed away and lightly touched your delicate clit with his teeth. He inserted two fingers into you and plunged and curled them as you wilted carelessly.

Your body was familiar to him. Knew precisely what you wanted, how to operate it like a well-tuned guitar, and even what buttons to press and where to press them. He stroked your G-spot while simultaneously pressing his thumb into your clit. When Joel stood up, his chest heaving, the strain was dizzying as your orgasms ripped through you and your moans were still echoing in the air. He gently kissed your lips as he leaned forward on top of you, bracing his hands on each side of your head.

When you kissed him and cherished the flavor of the kiss, leisurely threads of need twisted inside you. Like desperation flavored with desire and soothed with compassion, robust and rich. You explored and licked the inside of his mouth as you panted. He moaned in hunger and want, “Birdie…” Your hands roamed, your hearts pounding in sync and your kisses growing in intensity until the heat became too much to bear.

He took off his boxers and you flipped both of you over with the help of gravity, and you gradually sank into him, taking him in, inch by inch until he was buried deep inside of you. Hitting deeper, and tasting sweeter. You rocked against Joel as his hands held onto your hips. A delightful pressure swelled inside of you, rising higher and higher until your head was distorted with lust. Sweat misted your skin. Moans filled the air. He was certainly straining to hold back, but he made no move to take control as you both experienced toe-curling orgasms at the same time. When Joel brought you down for a kiss, the second, smaller climax that the overpowering intimacy of the moment had triggered was still reverberating through you.

Your eyes are half-lidded as you pull away from the kiss and look at Joel, who’s heavily panting, breathless, and in awe of you. Joel flips you both over, and your back hits the mattress. He kisses you again, still, inside of you, you are still sensitive from your previous orgasm and cry out, “I can’t…” He pants and groans, “Yes you can sweet girl. You can do it. One more for me Birdie.” He’s hitting deeper and quicker as you try to squirm away from him but all he does is pin you down, grabbing your hands to lock them above your head, causing you to scream and cry out in pleasure. “You’re doing so well. You’re such a good girl.” He praises, and everything feels and sounds amplified, every thrust his hips make, the sounds of slick wet skin slapping together, each grunt and moan mixing and blending between you both finally brings you and him over the edge. He pulls out and paints your stomach while you clench and moan throughout your release.

He folds over atop you, his weight is a welcoming feeling, like a large protective blanket. You’re running your fingers through his hair as he continues to catch his breath and you hum happily, “You good cowboy or do you need a wheelchair?” He grunts, “Haven’t done that in a while. Cut the man some slack.” You laugh loudly and kiss the side of his forehead and he sighs with contentment. After a while, he rolls off of you, pulling you closer to his side, peppering your neck and cheek with kisses, “I’m goin’ to get a clean towel to clean us up.” You nod as he gets up, walks over to the bathroom, comes back with a clean rag, and wipes off the slick between your thighs and stomach.

He sets the cloth aside and climbs back in bed with you, tossing the blanket over both of your bodies, gripping your hips, and pulling you close. You kiss him again, just because you can and both of you are smiling widely at each other. You take a deep breath and close your eyes as you place your forehead on top of his, and Joel grumbles, “I should have pulled out earlier.” To which you yawn, “I have an IUD, it’ll expire in ten years.” Joel’s mouth opens, “You have a… oh right.” You laugh, “Yep. So I can keep riding you, my cowboy.” He smacks your ass and kisses you again as you yelp in surprise, “Keep talkin’ like that and we’re not gonna get any sleep tonight.” You roll your eyes in response but smile up at him.

The quiet between you two is comforting and allows you to rest your eyes, no awkwardness, just a blistering moment of peace. The night sky once ruled your imagination and you used to turn the dials with careful calculation. After a while, you thought you'd never find him and convinced yourself that you would never find him.

Then suddenly, he saw you through telescopes and calculations, the far was pulled so near. You opened your eyes to find yourself under his warm gaze, trying to memorize every feature as if you were constellations in the night sky. But the looming threat that hangs over you makes an appearance in the dark corner of the back of your mind, you whisper, “Joel.” He hums in acknowledgment and you continue, “You should give Ellie a choice. She also has every right to choose too.” He’s quiet for a moment before he sighs agreeing, “Yeah… Been thinking about it a while ago before you jumped my bones.” You smack his shoulder, “I did not!” To which he kisses you breathlessly, “I’ll give her the choice tomorrow.” You nod and cup the side of his face and he says to you so quietly, “We have a long way to go.” To which your eyes softened and kissed the tip of his nose, “Yes, but look how far we’ve come.”

THE RANCH, MASTER BEDROOM

JACKSON, WYOMING – EARLY MORNING

In the morning you don’t say it as both of you wake up to your bodies closely tangled with each other. His heavy arms are wrapped around your waist and his legs are inserted with yours as he kisses the back of your neck. Continuing to worship your entire being. You both had woken up early, sharing the water in the shower, to which you had both agreed you needed to save water, but it was just an excuse to keep touching each other.

By the time you both got out of the hot shower, you both got dressed and made your way to the stables. The chirping of birds brings you to smile at yourself as you brush your horse, preparing to leave. “You came here to say goodbye or something?” Ellie asks the both of you, causing you to look away from the task and tilt your head and smirk as Joel replies, “No. We came here to steal the horses and go.” To which Tommy says, “I woulda given you them.” And Joel replies with, “I know,” He sniffs and walks to Ellie before continuing, “Anyway… that was thirty minutes ago, and I guess… you deserve a choice. I still think you’d be better off with Tommy…” It’s no surprise that Ellie shoves her bag at Joel, “Let’s go.” He blinks and you laugh as he answers, “Okay.”

Both of you exit the stables with your horses, Joel helps Ellie mount his horse and you mount your own horse. “General direction?” Joel asks his brother, “Head southeast til you hit I-25. It’s right off the interstate. Shouldn’t be hard to miss.” He nods at Tommy before they both pull each other into a hug. They pull away and Tommy says, “There’s a place for you here… All three of you.” Joel gruffly says, “Countin’ on it.” And he spots Tommy’s rifle swung across his shoulder, “Can I borrow that?” Tommy nods, “Yeah.” But Joel continues to talk, “‘Cause Maria took mine.” Tommy throws him a look, “I already said yes, Joel. Adios, big brother.”

The large wooden gate’s latch is lifted open as your two horses trot through the snow. Exiting the safe, gated, community of Jackson. Your journey continues through the wilderness of Wyoming. The cold chilly air creates goosebumps at the back of your neck as you ride your horse past the tall emerald-green trees.

After a couple of hours of riding, Joel decides to teach Ellie how to shoot with the rifle. The sound of loud gunshots rings out as Ellie misses the main target. She sighs and Joel comments, “Wide right. You’re flinchin’.” You stand behind the two, enjoying the view of Joel and Ellie having some time together. Ellie shakes her head at him, denying, “The target’s too small.” Joel harrumphs at her, “I made it bigger than I should’ve. Eject the cartridge.” She does as she is told, and said, “I am not flinching.” Joel hums, “Mm-mhm.” Ellie doesn’t let up, “The rifle just sucks.”

“Okay, give it,” Joel said and Ellie gives it to him and whines, “It doesn’t aim right.” Joel only hums again, “Mm-hmm.” And Ellie frowns as she lifts her binoculars, “You’ll see.” They swap places and Joel grunts as he adjusts the rifle, “A deep breath in, slow breath out.” The girl sighs and Joel glances behind him to look at you, “You squeeze the trigger like you love it.” Your face warms at the memory of what happened last night and what he could be insinuating. You try to hide your smile, he winks at you and then looks to the scope, his voice getting deeper, “Gentle… steady… nice and slow.” Ellie drops her binoculars and groans, “You gonna shoot this thing or get Birdie pregnant? ‘Cause holy shit you guys were loud.” You choke on air at the same time Joel looks at Ellie shamelessly before looking back at the scope with his finger on the trigger. Ellie shakes her head, continuing to be in denial, “It isn’t gonna work. It doesn’t aim right.” A gunshot rings out, and it's a perfect headshot. “You dick.” Ellie says while Joel just smirks smugly and turns to look at you, “Birdie would know.” You throw your head and hands up in exasperation, “I fuckin’ can’t with you two.”

Wind bustled through the branches of the trees, making the leaves howl in their symphony. The horses trot through the snow, as the three of you make your way to the University of Eastern Colorado. The silence is no longer present, only filled by Ellie’s questions and Joel's answers. You occasionally input your own thoughts and ideas, correcting Joel when needed, but otherwise, you let yourself watch them form a connection that Joel was so afraid of.

“So the way they ran stuff in Jackson, was how things used to be?” Ellie asked, and Joel replies, “No. The country was too big for that. Back then, there were basically two main ways of lookin’ at things. Some people wanted to own everything. And some people didn’t want anyone to own anything at all.” Ellie hums, “Which one were you?” And you hear Joel reply, “Neither. I just did my job.” To which you chuckled, knowing that Joel has always tried to stay neutral in anything, it’s more efficient that way.

“Which was… building?” Ellie asks, and Joel confirms her guess, “That’s right. Houses, stores, that kinda thing. We were called ‘contractors’.” The teen mocks his voice, trying to deepen it, “The contractor. That’s pretty cool.” Joel smiles, his lips quirking a bit to the right, “Yeah. We were cool. Everybody loved contractors.” You rolled your eyes at Joel, letting him off the hook and not wanting to correct him at all.

The days go by and you three have been closer than ever. Joel and Ellie discuss the basics and rules of football while you hum to yourself the new song stuck in your head. Enjoying the sight of Joel and Ellie laughing and smiling over mundane topics, feeling your heart more full than ever before. A part of you that had been missing so long, a family you didn’t even know existed, a family you now found.

Further down the road, you pass by the sign indicating to take the I-25. “Well, how ‘bout that? Made it in five days.” Ellie adds, “Easy days. I don’t know what Tommy was so afraid of.” Joel’s mouth curls downwards, “Still time to find out.” To which Ellie mimics his baritone voice, “Still time to find out,” she then creepily whispers, “The Contractorrrr.”

The horses snort and huff as its hooves clop and trot on the pavement of the road. You make your way to the entrance of the deserted university, Ellie says aloud, “Home of the Big Horns. What does that mean?” And you answer, “It was their team mascot. It’s a kind of sheep.” Ellie smiles up at Joel, “Oh, see? One step closer to your dream. Don’t see any Fireflies, though.” He forms a hypothesis, “They’re probably in the middle. Safer.” He nods and leads, “This way.”

Joel has his rifle ready with one hand on the reins. The campus is eerily empty and quiet as your horses trot on the grounds. “So these places… people would live here and, like, what? Got to classes and stuff?” And you nod, “Yup. Sometimes even do research, like me.” She points out, “Even though they were adults.” Yours and Joel’s voices blended together as he answered, “Sort of adults.” While you said, “They were fake adulting.”

“I think it was just as much about partying and findin’ themselves as anythin’ else. Figuring what they wanted to do with their lives.” Joel plainly puts, and Ellie chuckles, “What they wanted to do with their lives.” To your happy surprise, your ears perk up when Joel says, “So I’ve been thinkin’.” You and Ellie urge him to continue, “I don’t want a sheep ranch, actually. I mean, if the deal is I can do anything?” And Ellie nods, “That’s the deal.” He faces the road ahead with a gaze so soft you barely recognized him, “Well… when I was a kid, I wanted to be a singer.” Ellie laughs while you smile widely at him, teeth showing and cheeks pinched upwards, the kid says, “Shut up.” While you say, “Come on Cowboy, let’s hear it. Serenade me.”

“No, you’re both already laughin’.” He grumpily replies, his eyebrows knitted together, and both you and Ellie protest, “Well, you’re singing for me later. I’m gonna save the fuckin’ world, man. It’s the least you could do for me.” Joel relents, “Fair enough. Birdie, what about you? Have you changed your dream yet?”

You smiled at the two people you’d gotten close with over the past few months, the unlikely bond you now were a part of, “I have everything I need right here, what else would I need to dream about?” you said. The two of them looked at you, wide-eyed and breathless at your statement. How funny it is to think, we only notice light when darkness crashes against it. The melody you carry is the strength while they come undone and the aftermath that makes them new.

Content with your answer, you trot forward with your horse and you three stumble upon a troop of monkeys that presumably escaped from a lab, Ellie exclaims excitedly, “Are those monkeys?” The troop proceeds to run away as Joel says, “Must be from the old labs.” The young girl laughs, “Look at them go.” Joel glances at her and asks, “First time seein’ a monkey?” Ellie parrots as a reply, “First time seein’ a monkey.”

“Lookit.” Joel points out to spot a Firefly symbol, “Here we go.” Ellie says, and your head in the direction of the research lab. As you arrive at what looks to be the entrance to the lab, “Guard stations.” Ellie states and Joel hums, “Mhm. No guards.” Ellie is unnerved and wary, she asks to take out her gun, and Joel allows it.

You dismount your horse and tie it to the tree, Joel and Ellie do the same. You arm yourselves as you walk inside the lab. The sound of your footsteps echoes in the deserted building, you look to the ground to see documents and masks littering the concrete floor. “There were definitely doctors here,” Ellie says looking at the test tubes and you spot a brown file on top of the metal trolly. You lift the cover of the folder, peeking at the papers, your eyes skimming over the words while lifting up the yellow sheet of paper, “This is a packing list. They moved out of here.” Ellie’s eyebrows furrow, “They just left?”

And on cue you hear the sound of metal clanging from upstairs, your heads whip up in the direction of the noise, and Ellie remarks, “Maybe not all of them.” Joel takes the lead as you make your way up the stairs, hearing the clanging sound getting louder. Joel finds the specific door to where the noises were coming from, and he readies his pistol, slowly pushing the door open, slightly creaking as it does, to be followed by a high-pitched screech.

Two monkeys hop out of the room through the window, screeching at you for disturbing them. You all lower your weapons and survey the area. You snort at the fact it was so anti-climactic for nothing, Joel utters, “Well… at least it ain’t Clickers.” And Ellie mumbles, “Yeah, no Fireflies either. Maybe in all that research, they turned into fuckin’ monkeys.” You and Joel sense her disappointment, her need for reformation, and ways she could be better in her mind.

You look through the medical equipment and research notes, trying to look for clues to where the group of researchers transferred. Joel approaches the large wooden corkboard, a map of the United States is on display along with notes pasted on the side. You and Ellie walk up next to Joel to analyze the pins pushed in the lines that trace along the roads leading to the center. “That’s where they went?” Ellie said, pointing out St. Mary's Hospital, located in Salt Lake City, Utah. Joel nods, “All the pins lead there. Maybe gettin’ ahead of the weather… better facilities? I don’t know.” The joy in you vanishes against your will. The light goes out and your heart goes still, and just like that, you believe in ghosts.

But then, the trio hears voices. Looking out the window, Joel sees four men armed with weapons, they were raiders. You were weighed down by dread, the flutter of fear in your stomach causes your palms to sweat and tremble. You needed to get out of here and fast. Joel quietly tells you both, “Out the back.” You run down the steps and find the back door, your guns are drawn as you stealthily make it back to your horses, staying ever vigilant. You’re a few steps away from your horses, Joel turns to you both asking in a hushed tone, “Ready?” And you both nod, “Yeah.”

You run to your own horse while Ellie and Joel untie theirs. Something caught your eye in your peripheral vision, a blur of a shadow, and you turn to see a man carrying a baseball bat, lifting it while running at Joel. Ellie screams his name out while you ran towards the attacker, the baseball bat breaks as he tries to hit you but instead strikes a tree. You didn’t think, you just acted, protecting the two people who kept you safe for the majority of your journey. Shoving him with as much force as you could, the raider hits the tree, and Joel comes to your aid, grabbing the raider to break the man’s neck.

You didn’t even realize it until Joel had turned around, in the struggle, the sharp wooden hilt of the bat is stuck inside his abdomen, blood seeping out through the jacket. Ellie’s eyes grow wide in horror and Joel looks down, and grunts as he pulls out the sharp hilt of the bat, you scream, “No, don’t!” But you were too late, and Ellie yells your name, “Birdie you’re also bleeding!” You look down at your own abdomen to find a large slash across it, the maroon blood dripping on the freshly fallen snow, you direct Ellie, “Get Joel on the horse now. We need to leave before…” You hear yelling from a distance and you aim and shoot at the raiders with one hand as the other clutches your stomach while Ellie helps Joel up and back onto the horse.

You use all the strength that you have and pull yourself up to your horse, following Ellie as she shoots them back with you, she yells, “Get back!” And you three were in time to get away from all the other raiders coming. After a few minutes, you three have managed to make it to a safe distance from the attackers, “They’re not following us, I think we’re safe.” Joel doesn’t reply, and Ellie voices her concern as her voice rises as she says yours and Joel’s name.

He’s the first one to collapse from his horse, and you go toppling down as well. You feel the plush landing of the pile of snow, Ellie immediately comes both to your sides, and she says in distress, “Fuck! Shit, no, no no.” The cold weather mixed with the blood loss you were both dealing with were not the best conditions for either of you. “Joel, Birdie, open your eyes come on.” You bring your tired eyes to the girls and cough out to Ellie, “Place pressure on his abdomen and drag him using his sleeping bag, the rope, and the horse Leave me here and find someplace warm.” Ellie can feel her eyes sting and her vision goes blurry, it feels like bittersweet poetry. You softly grab your hand, “Listen to me. Ellie.” She tries to shake her head but you gritted your teeth, the adrenaline had begun to fade and you were beginning to feel the sharp pain across your stomach, you grunt and squeeze her soft small hands, “Ellie, remember what I asked you to promise? Go. Please, save him.”

It had been a campfire night out in the woods at the university and Joel had fallen asleep again during watch. You had both been talking about mundane things, to your hobbies and what you missed about home, to ask about what her life was like in FEDRA school, at one point you realized that there would be a difficult decision to make and that you needed to prepare her just in case it might occur. You didn’t memorize everything from the game, but you knew damn well there would be a possibility that you and Joel might get injured and Ellie would have to choose.

You grab her hand, abruptly stopping her from her previous sentence, and look her in the eye, “Ellie. There will be a time when you have to choose between me and Joel. In the event we both get badly injured, you need to save Joel, no questions asked.” The teen tries to protest but you silence her, leaving no room for argument, “Joel will protect you better than I ever could, we both know that. You need him more than me, I’ve been alone for almost all of my life… this is nothing new, but you… you are something so special. You must choose Joel for your sake, do you understand?” Ellie’s lips form a thin line, and stubbornly she shakes her head, “No. I’ll save you both. Just you watch.” Your eyes soften at her naiveness and hope, “You can’t save everyone, Ellie. So, I know it’s unfair to ask you this, but I need you to promise me to save him when it comes down to it.” Her eyes begin to water as she reluctantly tells you, “Okay.”

In a voice so broken and vulnerable, you hear Ellie whisper into the cold air as she puts pressure on Joel’s wound and looks at both of you, “I can’t fuckin’ do this without you. I don’t know where the fuck I’m going, what the fuck I’m gonna do. Joel, Birdie.” You give her a small smile, “Ellie, sometimes, just getting up and carrying on is brave and magnificent. Keep going, Ellie.” She sniffs and she lets tears slip down her cheeks, you keep smiling as you use the rest of your strength to lift your hand to cup her cheek, wiping away the tears, “It’s okay. It’s okay, Ellie. This was where I was meant to be. Thank you, Ellie, remember that you are loved.”

You feel your vision begins to fade and drop your hand from Ellie’s cheek, letting your head rest on the plush snow, no longer looking at the teen, you tearily look up to feel the snowflakes gently fall on your face. You distantly hear Ellie drag Joel and tie him up on the sleeping bag as a makeshift sled. Your eyelids begin to feel heavy and start to droop, you turn your head to see Joel struggling to open his eyes, seeing your freezing, bleeding-out body staining the white cold snow. Joel cries out your name, pleading, “Birdie. Wait. No. Please…”

You look up at the bright gray sky, blinking and slowly beginning to only hear muffled sounds. Your horse decides to rest next to you, knowing what was about to happen, cuddling your bleeding-out body, and staying with you til the end. You decide that this was the best way to go, protecting and shielding the people you loved as much as you could. So you hum carols softly, as sweet as you know, a prayer that our burdens will lift as you go.

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter

END NOTES:

AGAIN MY BAD FOR THE HUGGGEEE DELAY – I 1000% blame the jet lag since I just flew out to somewhere on the East Coast! Sorry, ya’ll! T^T (Also the fuckin 5 hours of sleep, I am running on fumes rn)

YAY YOU KISSED AND SLEPT TOGETHER WOW GOOD JOB

UR OFFICIALLY HIS GIRL *confetti*

Holy fucking shit that was sO HARD TO WRITE

OKAY NOT BECAUSE I WAS UNCOMFY WRITING IT CHILL– its um, cuz, miss gorl here has never been properly kissed or um had a boyfriend lol so take a freaking guess to why

So writing a romance scene reALLY REALLY TESTED MY KNOWLEDGE, PATIENCE, AND HECKING ALL THE ROMANCE BOOKS I’VE READ PLEASE I WAS CLAWING MY WAY THROUGH THE ENTIRE TIME

I hope it wasn’t too awful or unrealistic :,))

HORRAY FOR FINALLY FACING YOUR FEAR AND VOICING OUT UR NEEDS AND WANTS GOOD JOB HERE HAVE A COOKIE

FUCK JOEL GOT STABBED MF

YOU ALSO GOT INJURED?? AGAIN?? WTF IS WRONG WITH U *bonk* ARE U DEAD OH NO? WTH!?!?1

ALSO MF PEDRO PASCAL IF I EVER MEET YOU I MIGHT HAVE A MENTAL BREAKDOWN IN FRONT OF YOU AFTER YOU DESCRIBED PTSD SO WELL WTF– ahem, I have PTSD and I’ve never seen me represented properly in any television series or movies. It’s always (usually) war veterans yk (CALM DOWN— CHILL PRETTY VALID AND PRETTY DAMN FUCKIN TRAUMATIC) But as someone who has PTSD and yk hasn’t been to a literal war it’s a bit harder to connect or relate to it (im not fucking whining, I’m just telling you my experience with PTSD) But the way Pedro showed it— fuck man. It was like staring at a mirror. My own brokeness represented in one episode. I felt so seen for the first time.

BUT THIS ONE, MF PEDRO U DESERVE ALL THE AWARDS

yay for Maria and Tommy! Such cuties congrats on the baby!!

someone should probably help me find a boyfriend— idk i Need research for smut :DD (this is a joke please don’t)

This chapter was wAYYYU more personal and intimate to write about. I just needed to do this right for my sake and others.

Sorry for the delay! The smut part was a little bit intimidating to write since yk I have zero experience with it LMAO

Thank you for sticking with me and I look forward to all of your comments and feedback! It gives me an idea if im doing this right and opportunity to connect with all of you! I LOVE YOU GUYS SOSOS MUCH AND OFF TO EP 7 I GO AHHHHH

Grace

#uneven odds joel miller #unevenodds #uneven odds #unevenoddstaglist #alternate universe #joel miller masterlist #joel miller x poc!reader #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #joelmiller #joel miller x reader au #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader tlou #joel miller x modern reader #tlouhbo #tlou series #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou au

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tightjeansjavi · 2 months

Text

Slow Hands | Chapter 11

“a wolf in sheep’s clothing”

A/N: another emotionally charged chapter that has left me in a puddle of my own tears 😔 there’s only 2 chapters left (crazy, I know) writing this story has truly been a journey for me, and it’s bittersweet knowing that it’s ending soon. As always, thank you for reading, and thank for betaing @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

~word count: 6.2k~

Summary: Angie goes missing, another letter, and two brothers letting the past go.

Pairing | Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: ‼️DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT‼️graphic depictions of violence, kidnapping of a minor character, minor character death, talk of suicide, anxiety/PTSD episode, angst, grief, guilt, emotionally charged conversations, protective!joel, Tommy is a girl dad in this universe (not canon but I hope it becomes canon) no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!

A wolf in sheep’s clothing: someone who hides malicious intent under the guise of kindliness

They moved like cloaked shadows in the night. Swift, sure-footed, silent. Cody couldn’t let him down. And with Joel’s blood still crusted underneath his fingernails, and spattered on his shirt, he led the way to Angie’s quiet home.

She put up a valiant fight, nails acting as claws swiping through the air. She didn’t want to die, not yet, not now. Please, just one more day.

Her nails made contact with his cheek, slicing through the skin, drawing blood to the surface. Her screams died in her throat when his ready fist made contact with her fragile face. Out cold. Still.

Cody is messy, always has been. It’s a detrimental price to pay, but he can’t let him down.

Her door is left ajar. Sticking out like a sore thumb come morning.

When she awakes, her head throbs, it pulses. Her eyes blink, stinging with pain as she becomes conscious of her new surroundings.

The woods.

Two men are arguing as she struggles to move, only to find that her wrists and ankles have been bound together with rope that has been tied so tightly, it bites into her skin.

“You’re a fuckin’ fool, Cody!” The man yells, striking Cody across the face.

He’s an abuser. He’s been one since the end of the world. Maybe even longer, but he can’t seem to remember the moment he chose the path to abuse. To harm. To kill. It doesn’t matter, he has no means to atone himself.

“A goddamn, trigger-happy, fool!” He hits him again, shoving Cody against a nearby tree. “Do you have any fuckin’ idea the risks you’ve just put out on the line?! Huh! Do you?! I asked you to do one fuckin’ thing! One goddamn fuckin’ thing! You’ve always been messy, Cody. Fuckin’ never cleanin’ up after yourself!” He yells in his face, and Angie’s blood runs cold.

She knows that voice.

She knows.

“I thought—I thought you would be proud of me!” Cody shoves back, body switching to defense mode in an instant. “I TOOK DOWN THE FUCKIN’ MOOSE!”

The other man sneered, shaking his head, and laughed. It's a bone chilling laugh. Cruel. Unkind. Sadistic.

“You fuckin’ moron. You didn’t kill him.” He scoffs.

“That old fuck is dead. I killed him!” He insists.

“Killed him? No. Wounded him? Sure. It takes a hell of a lot more to take down a moose than just kicking him in the fuckin’ head!” The other man places his hands on his hips, his tone is nothing short of condescending. “What do you think is going to happen when he wakes up, Cody? He’s gonna come straight for you.” He jabbed at his chest.

“He’s dead. I killed him. I killed Joel Miller.” Cody’s voice wavers the more he thinks back to the moment his boot connected with Joel’s face. Was he dead? He appeared to be. He must be. He has to be.

“Ah. Are your actions catching up to you? Are you beginnin’ to realize that you have managed to jeopardize everythin?’” The other man scoffs before his attention is drawn to Angie.

“You were supposed to bring her to me. You were supposed to bring her home, where she belongs. I asked you to do one fuckin’ thing, Cody. And you failed. You failed me.” He tsks, tongue in cheek. He crouches down in front of Angie’s trembling frame. She tries to escape, but there’s nowhere for her to run. She’s ensnared, and running out of time. The backside of his hand strokes against her cheekbone with a horrid softness that is anything but soft.

“Instead, you bring me this pathetic excuse of a life. Angie, isn’t it? What a doll. I really enjoyed your cookin’, sweetheart. I think I’ll miss that the most.” He chuckles, leaning in as his nose brushes through tendrils of her hair. “I could..keep you alive.” He whispers as tears begin to roll down her cheeks. “I could..but then that wouldn’t teach Cody a lesson, now would it?”

“Please—please. I—I—don’t want to die. You don’t..have to kill me.” She pleads, eyes squeezing shut.

“I don’t.” He agrees. “I don’t have to kill you, Angie. I could keep you as my own. You could replace her, and the constant hole I feel in my pathetic heart after she left me. “I was so good to her, Angie. So good..and she left.” He sighed almost as if he was feeling a moment of empathy for what he was about to do.

“I—I could replace her. I could. Please. I would never leave you. You don’t have to kill me. I’ll stay with you. I’ll—I’ll love you the way that she couldn’t.” Angie begs, and this is his favorite part. The moment where his victim begins to believe that he’ll spare them, that he’s not really a monster. That they’ll live to see another day.

“Oh, Angie, you haven’t really been payin’ attention at all, have you?” He sneers. “You’ll never replace her. You stupid fuckin’ bitch.” He spits, and a glob of saliva lands on her trembling cheek.

He looks over his shoulder at Cody just as a flash of lightning strikes above and illuminates his face in bright light. He faces her once more, fingers brushing across her face. He’s gone in for the kill, like a snake attacking in the grass.

She pleads for her life one more time. Hoping, begging..until it’s over.

He snaps her neck swiftly, in a blink of an eye as her body falls to the ground with a sickening thud. A single tear rolls down her cheek, landing in the dirt below. Her eyes are unmoving, body twitching, and then going still. A little fall of rain can hardly hurt her now.

She’s disregarded like trash on the street, nothing more than a sack of flesh in his eyes.

Raindrops begin to steadily fall as he stands above her body looking down at it with disgust. “Get the fuck back to Jackson, and bring her to me.” It’s a threat, and Cody knows what his fate will be if he returns without you.

When 20 minutes turned into an hour, that’s when the fear began to trickle in and fester like an open untreated wound. Ellie hadn’t returned, and there was no sign of Joel. You were alone and beginning to imagine the worst possible scenarios in your head. Ellie told you to stay inside, keep the doors locked, but that prodding voice inside of your head was growing louder, and louder. You could only tune its harshness out for so long before you would inevitably snap.

Ellie isn’t coming back.

She’s out there all alone, and you’re gonna continue to be a sitting duck?

Joel’s dead, I bet. He’s dead, and it’s probably all your fault. How’s that make you feel inside, Beanie? You killed them. You killed them both.

You had picked the skin around your cuticles to the point where they were raw and bleeding. Joel and Ellie were okay. Nothing bad happened to them. That voice inside of your head wasn’t true. None of it was true. It couldn’t be.

Ellie said she’d be back. She’s okay. Nothing happened to her. She found Joel and they’re on their way back now.

I didn’t kill them.

They’re alive.

Are you sure? Let’s face it, something happened to them both. The two people that you love the most in this world are dead and it’s all your fault.

Your fault.

Your—

“I DIDN’T KILL THEM!” You yelled suddenly as your emotions bubbled over.

It felt like every wall in Joel’s home was beginning to close in on you as if you were an unsuspecting bug that was about to be crushed under the weight of a shoe.

It felt like all the air in your lungs had been snatched, and you were suffocating, clawing for air.

That’s how you found yourself stumbling out back onto the porch, hunched over, heaving with tears streaming down your cheeks. The voice inside of your head only seemed to grow louder and louder as images of Joel and Ellie laying in a pool of their own blood flashed cruelly in your mind. You blinked, and blinked, and blinked, but the picture was as clear as day, and it wasn’t going away.

You don’t remember how you ended up in Joel’s shed surrounded by the comforting aroma of sawdust, pine, and Joel. He cloaked your senses like a warm hug, or a hot cup of tea with honey soothing your throat. You collapsed into his chair, hugging yourself for dear life, and then, the voice was silent and you were still, frozen on the spot, numbed.

What the fuck am I supposed to tell Beanie?

Hey, so I don’t want you to freak out or anything, but Joel got his ass handed to him, and he’s beat up pretty bad.

When I found him..I thought he was dead.

But don’t worry, he’s not gonna die! He’s fine. Joel is fine.

Ellie’s footsteps were trailing a good foot behind Jesse’s and Liam’s. The weight of her own gun felt heavy in her palm. Rain had steadily begun to fall and soaked the dry earth beneath her worn down converse. Tears began to blur her vision when images of Joel lying in a pool of his own blood attacked her mind.

“El?” It was Jesse. “Y’okay?” He had slowed his footsteps so she could catch up. And when she was close enough, he reached his hand out and gently squeezed her shoulder.

“I’m fine.” She sniffled and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her hoodie. “I’m fine, Jesse.” She went to brush his hand off her shoulder but refrained because she knew he was just trying to comfort her.

“Are you sure? Tommy didn’t really tell Liam and I what happened but—”

“What did he tell you?”

Jesse paused and let out a sigh. His eyes met hers in a brief stare. “Somethin’ along the lines of Joel getting the shit beat out of him in public. He didn’t say by whom.”

I know who the fuck did it.

“Yeah. Some fucking cowards probably jumped him.” Yeah, some cowards alright.

“He’ll be alright though, right?”

“Joel is as stubborn as a mule, Jesse. He’s going to be fine.”

Jesse nodded and took a step back to give her some space. “Yeah, you’re right about that.”

When they reached the front steps to Joel’s home, Ellie was nudged out of the way when she reached for the door handle. Liam muttered under his breath about it being some standard protocol to which she scoffed under her breath, withdrew her gun and shoulder checked him for good measure.

Ellie’s blood ran cold when she did not immediately find you on the couch in the same spot that she left you.

“Fuck.” She muttered under her breath, finger hovering over the trigger.

“Ellie? What’s wrong?” Jesse came up beside her, his own gun drawn at his side.

“I left Beanie right here, Jesse. Right here on the fucking couch!”

If anything happens to her, Joel will never forgive me. Never.

“You’re sure you left her on the couch, Ellie?” Liam interjected, pushing past both of them.

“You think I’d fuckin’ lie about that? I left her on the couch.” She snapped back. “I told her to stay here and keep the doors locked.”

“I’ll check upstairs. Liam, you and Ellie check the kitchen and do not go outside without me.” Jesse said firmly. He was looking right at Liam with a stern glare.

Liam was half tempted to flip him off but refrained from doing so. It wouldn’t have been worth it in the end.

He and Ellie did a full sweep of the kitchen and lower level while Jesse went upstairs and checked every room.

The trio met back at the foot of the staircase.

“The only place we haven’t checked yet is Joel’s shed outback.” Ellie said with a huff to mask her nerves. “She wouldn’t just..up and leave for no fucking reason. Unless someone was here, or she was suspecting someone.”

“Joel’s shed? Why the hell would she go there?” Liam scoffed under his breath. “Ellie, we sweeped the whole fuckin’ house. She’s not here.”

“Fuck you, man. Don’t pick up an attitude with me. Do you have any idea what that woman means to Joel? Huh? Course you don’t. If something happened to her—”

“El, breathe.” Jesse said calmly. “We’ll do a sweep out back, okay? I’m sure she’s there. I’m sure she’s fine.” He reassured her.

Ellie inhaled a shaky breath of air and nodded her head in Jesse’s direction. Once she was regrouped enough, she took the lead and headed towards the back door with Liam and Jesse in tow.

The rain was coming down with a blinding force now and obstructed Ellie’s vision momentarily as she cautiously approached Joel’s shed. A bright flash of lightning illuminated her face before it was casted back into darkness.

Please. Please, be in there. Please be safe, Beanie.

Jesse and Liam had their guns aimed at the ready when Ellie grasped the shed door handle and pushed it open.

You were caught like a deer in headlights when Ellie, Jesse, and Liam came into view. Your hands trembled around the loose grip you had on Joel’s letter to Bill and Frank.

Ellie immediately lowered her gun to her side with a visible sigh of relief and tucked it into her hoodie pocket. “Beanie? Fuck. What are you doing out here? I thought I told you to stay inside. I—I thought something had happened to you!”

The look on your face is all Ellie needs to understand that you don’t remember.

“You don’t remember anything..do you, Beanie?” Her tone is soft compared to the way that her heart is beating out of her chest.

You shake your head and bite down harshly on your lower lip as you look between Ellie, and the two men beside her. You’ve seen Jesse around before, but Liam is unfamiliar.

“Can you guys..give us some privacy?” Ellie speaks quietly to Jesse and Liam.

“Holler if you need us. Okay, El? We’ll be outside.”

“It’s fuckin’ raining. We’re gonna get—” Liam’s bitching is cut off by Jesse forcefully grabbing his bicep and pulling him back outside into the pouring rain. He pulls the door shut behind him leaving you and Ellie in total privacy.

“Ellie..where’s Joel? What happened?” You questioned immediately and Ellie let out a deflated sigh. Her shoulders slumped in a defeated motion.

“He’s..hurt, Beanie. But Tommy’s with him. He’ll be alright. He always comes back home. Even when he’s hurt, nothing stands in his way.” Ellie’s doing her best to reassure both herself and you. She walks further into the shed and finds herself sitting along the edge of Joel’s workbench next to you.

“What happened to him, Ellie?” You look over at her, eyes glassy with tears that are threatening to spill. “How do you know for sure that he’ll..come home?”

“I don’t know exactly what happened to him. I found Tommy first, and he discovered Joel laying in the dirt outside of your home. He was covered in blood. I—I thought he was dead, but Tommy reassured me that he wasn’t.”

She rests her hands along the dust covered table and looks down at her lap. She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes as she looks over at you. “Because..before Joel took me to the Fireflies base, there was a time where I thought he was gonna die on me. I remember bein’ so afraid of losin’ him. I didn’t know what the fuck I was gonna do without him.”

She swallows hard and blinks back her own tears. “He tried to push me away. Told me to go back to Tommy’s and leave him to die. I refused. So, I did everything I could to help him get better. His wound was infected and I knew he needed medicine fast. I risked my life for him not knowin’ if he would make it.”

You reach for her hand and entwine your fingers just as her tears begin to fall. “Somethin’ terrible..happened to me after I got Joel the medicine he needed. And I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see him again, truthfully.” She sniffled and squeezed your hand gently.

“I remember stumbling outside in the snow covered in blood, and he was there. I thought he was a ghost, Beanie. But he was there, and he was holding me.”

“Ellie..” you trailed off.

Your teary eyed gazes met as the rain pelted down along the roof of the shed.

“Do you need a hug, kiddo?” You asked softly. Ellie was like the daughter you never had, and like Joel, you’d put your life out on the line to keep her safe. It’s what empaths do. They put others feelings above their own. And right now, Ellie needs you.

“Yes.” She murmured. “I need that more than ever right now.”

You set the letter down off to the side and stand up just as Ellie slips down from where she’s sitting on the edge of the table. You gather her up into your arms and hold her tight. You didn’t need the full story to understand what happened to her before Joel brought her to the Fireflies. “It’s okay. I understand. I’m here for you, El.”

She wrapped her arms around you with her tears soaking into your shirt while you rubbed soothing circles into her back with your freehand cupping the back of her head, cradling it gently.

You held each other like this as the storm outside roared on. Ellie was the one to ultimately pull away from the hug and quickly wiped at her eyes.

“Thank you.” She whispered, “I really needed that.”

“Of course, El. I’m always here for you.”

“What’s this?” She gestured to the letter resting along the table and reached for it.

“It’s another one of Joel’s letters.”

“Joel’s been..writing letters? To whom?” She picked it up gently.

“To those he loves most.” You said softly.

“Can we..read it together?”

You nod and pull the chair up closer while Ellie begins to read the letter out loud.

Bill and Frank,

By now I’m sure you realized that I found your letter. I know that you and I didn’t always see eye to eye, but I did consider you a friend. Someone who I respected, trusted, and in a way, admired. I never got the chance to tell you just how much I respected you, Bill. I think back to the first time we met, where yours and mine clicked instantly. I don’t think I ever saw Tess smile as much as she did that day. You and I were both pretty pissed off about it, huh? But hey, whatever makes those we love happy, right?

You were one hell of a man, and I’m honored that I had the pleasure of knowing you, even if the time was cut short.

So, I’m gonna tell you something because I know that you’ll understand.

I found two people in this shit-hole world that mean somethin’ to me. I lost a daughter, but I gained another. She was just cargo to transport to the Fireflies, but as much as I saved her, she saved me. Her name is Ellie, and I think you woulda loved this kid. I pushed away feeling anything for so fuckin’ long, and then she came into my life and showed me that I still have a heart. Her and I? We’ve been through hell, but there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep my kid safe.

And then, I fell in love with this woman who has a heart of gold and a kindness that I never thought I’d feel again. She reminds me of Frank. Artistic, soft-spoken, and this breath of fresh air that can melt even coldest of hearts. Her name is Beanie, like coffee beans. She and I actually briefly knew one another in Austin. She owned this coffee shop, Cuppa Smiles and every-time I’d come in with Sarah, she’d put a stupid little smiley face on my morning latte. Well, we met again…and I fuckin’ love her silly little latte art. She’s my person, Bill. And even though I feel I am undeserving to love someone as beautiful as her, I’m so fucking grateful. This is all to say you’re right. You and I do have a purpose in this world, and that is to protect the ones we love. To keep them safe. And god help any motherfuckers who stand in our way, right?

Godspeed.

-Joel

By the end of the letter you and Ellie are both feeling new waves of emotions. Joel Miller loves you, and you’ve known it for a while now, but to see it on paper? Well, there’s really no feeling to describe it. To love and to be loved, is one of life’s greatest treasures.

“Did you ever get to meet Bill and Frank?”

“No, but I do know for a fact that Bill was a fuckin’ badass. He had a whole wall of guns in his house!” She couldn’t help but giggle at the memory of Joel grumpily telling her no when she implied on taking one of the guns for herself. Dude. There’s a wall of them.

You could picture Joel’s face now, and it too made you giggle because oftentimes he was rather grumpy over just about anything.

“Oh my god, you shoulda see how much of a mean motherfucker Joel was when I first met him!” She’s truly reminiscing now and there’s that childlike wonder to her again. All giggles, cheeks stained with tears, but she’s smiling a big toothy grin.

“Why don’t you tell me all about the first time you met Joel?”

And so she does, starting with the first interaction where Joel basically threw her into a wall in front of Marlene and Tess.

Well, I guess that’s what I got for spookin’ him. Shit really fuckin’ hurt, but I’m glad he and Tess showed up when they did. Who knows, maybe you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation right now if they hadn’t.

I’m really glad Joel and Tess showed up when they did too.

“Hey, Beanie?” Ellie suddenly asks as the rain is beginning to lighten up for a moment.

“Yeah?”

“Did you grow up listening to Linda Rondstadt?”

“I did.”

“What was your favorite song? If you had to pick one?”

“Oh, that’s an easy one, El. Long Long Time.”

She just smiles.

“Tommy..” Joel croaks, voice hoarse and barely audible.

Joel’s eyes are barely open and his face is visibly swollen and puffy. But he’s alive, he’s breathing, and that’s all Tommy can really focus on.

“Joel? Hey, how we feelin?’”

Joel cracks a smile, a painful one that has him wincing from the minimal movement. “Like I jus’ got hit by a fuckin’ bus.” He attempts to joke, but it falls flat when he realizes that Tommy is holding the letter.

“Yeah, well, y’look like dogshit, Joel. Doc said—”

“Don’t give a fuck what Doc said, Tommy.” He doesn’t mean to be short, not really, he’s just in a lot of pain.

Tommy falls silent. His eyes cast downwards and focus on the words written in the letter. The fluorescent light catches Tommy’s face at just the right angle for Joel to see the dried tears along his cheekbones.

“Tommy..I—I saw Sarah.” Joel’s voice cracks as the two brothers briefly make eye contact.

“Whad’ya mean you saw her, Joel?”

“She came to me in my dreams. She had daisies in her hair..She looked so beautiful. My baby girl.”

Tommy rests the letter along his lap and reaches for Joel’s hand. He gives it a firm, yet reassuring squeeze. His freehand immediately rises and he quickly wipes away fresh tears that have begun to fall. “She was so beautiful, Joel.”

There’s a moment's silence sans Joel’s labored breaths, and Tommy’s sniffles that fill the stagnant, all-too clean air.

“I thought..you were dead, Joel. All I saw was you layin’ in the dirt. Not movin.’ Covered in blood, and all I could think—And then I saw the gun, and for a minute I thought that maybe—” he takes a shaky inhale, squeezing his eyes shut. “But then I couldn’t find the entry wound, and I felt so relieved. So fuckin’ relieved.”

“Tommy, after all these years? After proving to you that I’d do anything to keep us alive? Why would your first thought be that I finished myself? Ellie needs me. I’d never do that to her or to you. Why would I cross the country to find you to only then shoot myself?” Joel doesn’t mean to be so harsh with his words, but despite all the years that have gone by, that guilt lives freely on his conscience. It’s plaguing, and reminds him of a scab that never quite properly heals because he’s picked it over so many times. It’s hammered into his skull with a rusted nail.

“Killin’ yourself ain’t gonna bring Sarah back, Joel. Its fuckin’ selfish that you—”

Selfish.

A man loses his only daughter in a brutal way, and he’s got nothing to live for. No path guiding him. No light at the end of the tunnel. No hope. Nothing. It was ripped from him the same way the rain of bullets ripped through her body.

“I have everythin’ to live for now, Tommy.”

It hits Tommy like a freight train at maximum speed. It thrashes like a fish breached on land, depleted of oxygen, slowly dying, baking in the sun. His feelings bubble over, and he doesn’t try to hold them at bay.

“Because the day you tried to kill yourself still haunts me. I couldn’t think rationally in the moment because I was brought right back to Texas. Right back to your home. Right back to the second I heard the gunshot and your body hittin’ the fuckin’ floor.” Tommy whispers the last part as tears blur his vision.

Joel reaches for his hand, knuckles bruised and crusted in blood and dirt. His body aches all over, but he pushes through the pain and grabs Tommy’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “I ain’t fuckin’ goin’ anywhere, Tommy.” His words are firm and hold true.

Tommy can only nod as he glances down at the letter once more. More tears have begun to flood the paper and blur Joel’s penmanship, but even though ink isn’t permanent, the words read like a script in his brain.

“When..did you write this letter?” Tommy finally asks.

“Shortly after I wrote the letter to Tess and after what happened at the Tipsy Bison.”

“And you meant every word in this?..”

“Absolutely.”

“You’re right. I did grow resentful. I couldn’t understand why you thought that..killin’ yourself was the only option. As if somehow that would bring Sarah back. I did think you were being selfish, and that was wrong of me. I know that hurt you more than you’re willin’ to admit. And I’m sorry, Joel. For all of it.”

“Y’gotta understand that I did think that it was the only option I had. I fuckin’ lost my daughter. She died in my arms. I was a shell of a man, and you—“ he took a deep breath as his tears began to freely fall. “Y’made me feel so guilty after. So fuckin’ guilty. The guilt consumed me. I knew that you weren’t sleepin’ much after that. Always thinkin’ that I’d attempt it again. Always on edge because of me.”

“It felt like we were walkin’ on eggshells around each other for years. There were so many times that I wanted to bring it up and apologize, but fuck, as if we had any time for that, right? Tess and I..we talked about it once, in private. She told me I should jus’ rip the bandaid off, but I never did.” Tommy admitted.

“Yeah, and then you left me for the fuckin’ Fireflies after everythin’ I did to keep you safe. To keep you alive, you left. Always wanted to be the fuckin’ hero. Didn’t matter what I said, you weren’t gonna listen.” Joel snapped.

“I jus’ wanted to try and make a difference in the shitty world that we live in! To erase injustice and make up for all the shit we did. All the people we murdered. I didn’t want to live with—”

“Didn’t want to live with knowin’ that there’s blood on your hands, Tommy? Those things we did? We did them to survive. It was either them or us. I have my regrets too, y’know.”

“We killed innocent people, Joel.” Tommy said somberly.

“Why did you cut fuckin’ communication with me? Huh? What was the reason? I’m your fuckin’ family. Your flesh and blood. And while you were livin’ all cushy with your new wife, bacon, and a warm fuckin’ bed, I was scared shitless that my brother was dead.”

“if I tell you the truth, you’re going to hate me.”

“I’m your brother, Tommy. I could never hate you. Jus’ tell me the reason. I don’t want a bullshit excuse. I want the fuckin’ truth.”

“Maria had some influence on my decision. She reassured me that cutting communication off with you would maybe be for the best. It was selfish of me, Joel. I just never expected—”

“Me to come fuckin’ lookin’ for you? Nothin’ was gonna get in my way of findin’ you, Tommy.”

“I wasn’t thinkin’ at the time. The thought hadn’t crossed my mind. Look, it was gettin’ to the point that everytime we’d talk, the conversation was always just so fuckin’ negative. That shit started to really eat away at me. Maria started to notice how it was affectin’ me, and she suggested that maybe...I was holdin’ on too much. At the time it felt right to cut contact off with you.”

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? Tommy, the world fuckin’ ended. What the hell was I supposed to be positive about, huh? Christ! The only positive thing in my life outside of Tess was knowin’ that you were alive! And then you took that from me too. I swear, that woman had rose colored glasses on the second she fuckin’ met you.” He snapped.

Tommy could already feel himself recoiling from his brother's words, and that utter feeling of shame came trickling in and knocking at the door. “I know I took that from you, Joel. I swear it wasn’t done outta malice.”

“No. You just wanted to move on with your life and I was holdin’ you back. The second you met Maria, fell in love, and got everythin’ you ever wanted, you pushed me away. Your own goddamn brother.”

“And I feel fuckin’ shameful for my decisions! The second you fuckin’ showed up here outta the blue, I felt that shame. I’m sorry..for all of it. But I’m tired of feelin’ this way, ain’t you?”

“Of course I’m fuckin’ tired of feelin’ this way, Tommy. Half the time I don’t even feel like I belong in this community. That I’m always gonna be an outsider. And I think your wife is partially to blame. I respect Maria, I really do. But she ain’t have any rose colored glasses on when it comes to me. I think that’s the most frustratin’ bit. Is that your wife judges me for the things I did to keep us alive, yet she refuses to acknowledge all the fucked up shit, and all the people you killed, Tommy.”

“I know you and Maria ain’t ever seen eye to eye. I don’t agree with the way she’s treated you either. She and I have talked about it. I’ve brought up how she treats you differently. I jus’ haven’t gotten through to her yet, but I’m workin’ on it. I can’t make her change her mind about you, but what I can do is defend you, tooth and fuckin’ nail. Jus’ like how I shoulda after the altercation at the Tipsy Bison.”

“I jus’ want you to feel…proud to be my brother again, Tommy. I don’t wanna keep walkin’ on eggshells and feelin’ like I ain’t belong in my own family. I love you so much, and I jus’—I want us to be okay. I don’t wanna fight anymore, I don’t wanna feel this resentment and guilt all the fuckin’ time. That’s why I’ve been writin’ these letters.. They’re healin’ me. They’re helpin’ me forgive.”

“Fuck.” Tommy sniffles. “You think I ain’t proud to be your brother, Joel? You’re still my fuckin’ hero, and you’re my fuckin’ family. My flesh and blood. I love you so much, and I’m sorry for hurtin’ you. I’m sorry for pushin’ you away. I’m sorry for bein’ selfish. For holdin’ so much resentment against you and the things we’ve done. I want us to be okay. I want us to be brothers again.”

“And I forgive you, Tommy. I’m sorry too. ‘M sorry for puttin’ you through hell. Shoulda apologized a long time ago.”

“We both should have. I never thought I would have the opportunity. I never thought I’d see you again.”

“You and me both.”

“Is..that why you ain’t really open to bein’ in Willow’s life? I try’n not bring her up because I know you’re still mournin, but it hurts that my brother doesn’t want to be involved in my daughter’s life.”

“Jealousy is a bitch, Tommy.” Joel said with a sigh. “Y’get to be a father to a little girl, and I lost mine. It ain’t right to you, or your daughter, but the grief still stings.”

“But Joel, you are a father. You might not be Ellie’s blood, but you’re her dad. I understand that you’re still grieving. Hell, I am too, but I want you to be in Willow’s life. I want you to be my daughter’s godfather..”

“..you want me to be her godfather? Tommy, I’d-I’d be honored.”

“Of course I do. I want that more than anythin.’”

“I wanna hug you, but everythin’ fuckin’ hurts.” Joel forces a laugh past his cracked lips. It comes out hoarse, rough around the edges.

Tommy hugs him anyway. It’s a gentle yet grounding caress and when the two brothers part, Joel knows he has to tell Tommy what really happened.

“Tommy.” He starts. His jaw ticks, nostrils flare. “It was Cody.”

Tommy’s blood runs cold. His fists clench, and his brows furrow. “What’re you talkin’ about, Joel?”

“Cody. He was outside of Beanie’s house. I saw him and immediately grew suspicious. He wasn’t alone. There were two other patrol guys with him. Alex and Oliver. There’s a whole fuckin’ pack of them. Cody and I got into it..he knocked me out.”

“They were lookin’ for Beanie?”

“Yes. But we ain’t have no tellin’ on how many of them there really are.” Joel gruffly said.

“Well, there’s four that we know of, right?” There was no time for Tommy to mourn this realization. Men that he trusted were just a bunch of wolves in sheeps clothing. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. Pungent. Betrayal. Anger.

“Tommy, we can’t lose focus, alright? We gotta bring these fuckers to justice. You and me. You want your daughter growin’ up in a world where sick fucks get away with shit undetected? You wanna be a hero, right? You wanna make sure your baby girl grows up only knowin’ love and safety. Cody thought he could bring down a moose, but he’s in for a fuckin’ surprise. I say we pump ‘em full of lead.” For good fuckin’ measure.

“I’ll be damned if I let her grow up in a world livin’ in fear with men who would jump at the opportunity to hurt her. We need to alert Maria immediately. I wanna do more than just pump ‘em full of lead. I wanna make them fuckin’ suffer.”

Ah. There he is, there’s the Tommy that I know.

Joel was already getting ready to swing his legs over the side of the bed when a very exasperated Jesse appeared outside the door. His cheeks were flushed, and it looked like he was barely holding it together.

“Jesse? What’re you doin’ here? Did Ellie make it home safe?” Tommy asked as he stood up from Joel’s bedside in a haste.

“She’s fine. Liam and I walked her home and then we found Beanie.”

“Found Beanie? What the hell does that mean, Jesse? Y’better start talkin’ or so help me–” Joel was cut off swiftly.

“She’s okay, Joel. Ellie and Beanie are fine. But Tommy, Maria is lookin’ for you. Angie’s missing. She didn’t show up to her breakfast shift, and it looks like someone broke into her home. We suspect that foul play was involved, and Maria is calling for an emergency council meeting.”

Tommy and Joel slowly looked over at one another. Angie was missing. Jackson was no longer safe, and it was up to the two brothers to protect the community, and those they loved most. Tommy nodded in understanding, and it was as if he was reading Joel’s mind in real time.

“Looks like we got a meetin’ to get to.”

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

Text

𝐒𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐊

Pairing: FEDRA!Javier Peña x firefly!reader

Genre: slice of life, smut, romance, angst, enemies to reluctant friends to lovers, TLOU AU, minors dni

Summary: Javier, a former member of the Federal Disaster Response Agency in Kansas City, is haunted by the guilt and violence he indirectly caused by not taking action when he should have. After fleeing Kansas City in the aftermath of Kathleen's violent overthrow of FEDRA, you and Javier seek refuge in an abandoned train in the middle of a forest.

As you and Javier turn the train into a living space and learn to navigate the dangers of a post-apocalyptic world, you gradually overcome your differences and form an unlikely bond. But when your pasts catch up with you, you must confront the demons that haunt you and make a choice that could mean the difference between life and death. Will you choose to protect each other and find a way to build a new life together, or will the ghosts of your pasts tear you apart?

word count: 8.4k

chapter summary: you and javier go for a swim.

warnings: canon typical violence, no y/n, mentions of blood, nightmares, brief mentions of reader suffering from anxiety attacks pre outbreak, PTSD, more references to the main hbo tlou plot specifically episode 5, overall wholesome and full of fluff, mention of body hair, piv, vaginal fingering, dirty talking, biting, mild edging, one small mention of him threading his fingers through your hair but nothing else specified

a/n: it's all about communication, baby. It's a long one so get your warm drink of choice and settle in!

Semaphore - A signaling system used on railroads to communicate between trains and stations, typically using a system of flags or lights.

The cell was always so fucking cold.

Javier hated being here, staring at the gray walls and reading that damn FEDRA sign over and over again all day long. He couldn’t help himself; it was right there within his eyesight. He wished it wasn't, that he could just rip it off and throw it in the corner.

YOUR RIGHTS WHILE IN DETENTION

YOU ARE ENTITLED TO:

LAWYER

MEDICAL ATTENTION

FAMILY VISIT

FOOD

CLOTHING

Just a huge load of fucking bullshit. If you’re in here, you’re in here for one reason only: to give up names. Either that, or you never see the sight of daylight again. He took a sharp breath. With that, the man sitting across from him on the bench stiffened. A drop of water continuously dripped from the ceiling. Every time the sound echoed, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Javier preferred to be alone during interrogations.

A young man stood next to him. Unlike Javier, who was leaning against the cage, he stood fully upright and alert, rifle in hand. He glared daggers at the man sitting helplessly; his cheek was cut, and his right eye bruised. Javier wanted to place a hand on Adam’s shoulder and tell him to calm down, to let him know that this broken man was no threat to them. But he couldn't do that, not when he had to keep his mask on.

“What’s your name?” Javier asked the man, he scoffed in return.

“You already know my name.”

Javier sighed once again, and Adam narrowed his eyes. The newcomers were always like this: eager to put others in their place, eager for violence. FEDRA didn't teach them anything else, just how to take orders and to see the world in black and white. But that was another bullshit lie. Javier had told Carillo a million times that he didn't want anyone paired with him. Murphy was enough. However, like many things, his request was ignored.

There was just something starkly painful about seeing a nineteen- or eighteen year old so eager to kill.

I want to hear it from you," Javier spoke calmly as he pushed himself away from the fence and took a step closer. The man cowered back. "If you tell me what I want to hear, we won't hurt you.”

There was a moment of silence, followed by a meek whisper of a name: Martin. Javier swallowed, realizing that this man would probably give away all the information they asked for, if he had the information to give.

“Alright, Martin," Javier said, taking slow steps and kneeling in front of him. Adam was right behind him, standing and being as menacing as ever. "I need you to tell me who is a part of this..." Javier made air quotes with his fingers, causing Martin to flinch. "...'Resistance'."

“I don’t know anythin’ about that.”

"Are you sure?" Javier asked with a raised eyebrow. "Not even a whisper?"

Javier heard Adam puffing up his chest and almost rolled his eyes. But he didn't look away; he kept his gaze fixed on Martin. He liked using silence as a tactic. He just stared, watching the other man sweat. It was clear to him that Martin was protecting someone. Javier could tell by the way Martin's tongue poked inwardly from one cheek to another; he was having trouble meeting Javier's gaze.

“You won’t be getting out of here,” he said, keeping his voice even. “If you don’t tell me who’s leading it.”

"I can't," he murmured, looking down at Javier's knees. "I won't."

Shit. This wasn't good.

Adam shifted from one leg to another, fidgeting with his rifle. A chill settled at the base of Javier's spine.

"Fucking answer the question," Adam spat, pointing the rifle. "Or we'll blow your head off. Ungrateful shit."

The worst part of all this was that Javier couldn't stop Adam if he were to do something. Stopping him meant blowing his cover and revealing that he cared about these so-called "traitors." Javier hissed between clenched teeth and nearly gave Martin a pleading look.

Javier averted his gaze at the last second. And with a heave, he stood up, towering over the man.

“Are you sure you’re not going to give us the name?” he asked one last time. “Any name.”

Martin shook his head.

Javier wakes with a jolt. He hears something akin to a whimper. A cry. He slowly rises from his bed, his eyes moving toward the curtain that stretches in the middle of the car, making two sections. Their setup isn’t perfect yet, but the curtain accompanied by the beds gave a sense of home and belonging. He attempts to rub the sleep away from his eyes, his mind was still in a deep sleep, a fog slowing his thoughts and reason.

Another whimper follows, and Javier's thighs quiver as he stands up. He reaches for the curtain, slowly pulling it aside.

There you are, crying in your sleep. Half of your face is tucked into the dirty pillow as your body contorts in the most unnatural ways. Javier's eyes follow the curves of your body: one knee nearly touching your chest while your other leg is straight like a stick, tense. Sweat makes your shirt cling to your skin. Moonlight trickles in from the freshly cleaned windows, giving you an almost ethereal glow.

Javier steps closer. This isn't the first time you've had a nightmare. And he's certain that you've also been awoken from sleep by his own night terrors. You probably wouldn’t believe him, but he hates seeing you like this. He can’t help but blame himself. He wonders how many more people were suffering due to the system he’s been a part of for so long.

He takes a gentle seat on the bed, bringing your head to his lap, he makes himself comfortable. Again, this isn’t the first time he’d done this.

Your whimpers and crying slowly subside, drifting into soft sniffles. Your tear streaks dry as you nuzzle your cheek into his thigh. He’s happy to see that this still works. You loosely wrap your arms around him, tugging him closer. Javier obliges shifting nearer.

In a moment of impulse, he finds himself reaching out for the blanket that you had kicked away in your frenzied attempt to escape your nightmares. The seasonal shift worries him. They’re not ready for the cruel temperature drop yet.

Javier pulls the blanket and you seem to melt at the warmth, your body becoming pliant over his lap. He adores seeing you like this. Your face softens, the tension that had hardened it dissolving.

Javier wants to hold you like this when you’re awake too. He thinks that you’d enjoy it, he never received any complaints about it before. His thumb moves down your cheek, he feels the scars he can’t see, and soon the pad of his thumb moves to your neck, your pulse thrumming under his touch.

A deep inhale expands his lungs, he leans back. His head hits the glass with a thud. Javier licks his lips, his fingers start to twitch. He wants to smoke.

By some miracle, he hadn’t touched a single cigarette all day, but that was only because he was going to be running out soon. What the hell was he supposed to do then? Chew on a straw? Like a cowboy?

He smiles at his own joke, his palm resting on your shoulder. He’s glad he’s not afraid of this. The apocalypse has made him a brave man. You’re probably more afraid of this attraction than he is. He can see it in your eyes; you hold his gaze for a beat too long, your hands lingering on his skin as if searching for something. He can’t help the boost of ego he gets from how you behave. He smiles every time he catches you but you miss it, turning your head away in a fit of panic.

A soft snore parts your lips and you bury your face deeper into his legs. Javier swallows, a thick knot in his throat as he feels his dick twitching under his zipper.

He lets out another deep sigh. It’s going to be a long night.

You find Javier outside, leaning against the train with a cigarette hanging between his lips. Holding your head, and still feeling a bit groggy, you join him. But instead of staying upright, you drop to the dirt, crossing your legs as you rest your back against the cool metal.

“You saw a nightmare last night,” he says nonchalantly.

“Did I?” you ask, looking between the fence chain. “Sorry.”

Your crinkle your nose when you inhale smoke instead of oxygen. Javier notices and tucks the hand holding the death stick between his waist and the train. It’s a chilly morning and you hug your coat tight around you.

“I didn’t say that for you to apologize. I was trying to ask if you’re alright.”

“Yeah, I didn’t really get that from what you said.” you answer, with a smile you rest the crown of your head against his knee. He stiffens, but other than that says nothing. “I don’t know. I don’t really remember what I saw if I’m being honest. Probably just a shit ton of death.”

“That good old apocalypse classic.” Javier nods, bringing the cigarette to his lips. “Can’t live without it.”

“So what’s the plan for today?”

He shifts his weight from one foot to another, he slightly slides them forward, burying the soles further into the grass. Much similar to yours, the tips of his boots are worn out around the corners. It would be great to find some new ones. But wearing—taking someone else's boots isn’t easy. As if there isn’t enough death going around, you had to be reminded of it in every uncomfortable step.

“I was thinking we go for a swim.”

“A swim?”

Javier laughs at the sound of your shock. His leg presses into your shoulder and you enjoy the heat, a small smile of your own blossoming. He crouches over, balancing himself by leaning against you. Your gaze is fixed ahead. If you look at him, you fear he might see right through you. He’s too observant not to hear your heartbeat.

“Blue River isn’t that far off from where we are,” he explains. “Winter’s coming, it would be good to get clean thoroughly. And we should at least try to stock up on water too. I know rain and snow is an option but still, it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared.”

“Guess not,” you murmur, looking up to the sky.

“You have something against swimming? It’ll be fun. And, most importantly, distracting.”

Your eyes widen, and your pulse skyrockets. He thought about this plan. He heard you crying in your sleep, woke up, went outside, and thought about something to do to cheer you up. You don’t remember the last time someone offered you their thoughtfulness. On your birthday, the third year you’d joined the fireflies, Amy had brought you a twinkie with a burning stick stabbed into it. And that was it. No one actually thought about your feelings.

God, you missed it.

It’s like a hug. A caress from the wind. The sun on your skin. It feels like breathing again. There’s no weight on your chest, because he’s helping you lift it. Someone fucking cares. A giggle bubbles up from your chest. Tears sting your eyes. Your head falls back against the train with a thud and you breathe out; fuck. You’re ridiculous. But Javier doesn’t seem to care. He’s just looking at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes, brows pinched in the middle.

Heat coils in your stomach, searing, burning up your insides.

“What do you suggest we swim in? Our underwear?” you tease without much thought.

You don’t expect to see the mischief in his eyes, the hints of arousal splattered over dark irises like stars in the night sky. You swallow. He must’ve sensed it because he leans in, slowly, lips only an inch away from your parted ones. Javier takes a deep inhale, those same eyes you love, and hate, drop to your lips.

You shudder.

“Whatever the rebel is comfortable in,” he murmurs, tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “If you don’t want your panties getting wet, might be better to take them off.”

The drop of his voice. The heat of his breath. Emotions spin wildly in your head, forcing you to be the one to take the metaphorical step back. Which is just you turning your head back to the fence. It doesn’t do much. You can still feel his breath fanning your cheek. It’s hard to hide the hitch of your breath, your chest rises up with the inhale you take, and, fuck, you just know he’s looking at your breasts. His gaze like a branding iron.

“I think I’ll keep my panties on, thank you very much,” you manage to choke out, the tremble of your voice too noticeable to ignore. “But, hey, if you want to flash the clickers out there be my guest, handsome.”

“Handsome?”

Shitshitshit.

You practically jump as you get up, and head inside the train. You hear him laugh, something dark and possessive lingering underneath.

“Let’s just go!” you call out. “I don’t want to be outside the fence when the sun goes down.”

Sex has been something you hadn’t allowed yourself to think about for a long time.

But now, as you’re standing under a giant oak tree, your shirt on the ground and pants unbuttoned, you’re reminded of how enticing the mere thought of sex can be. Javier’s already in the water, head bobbing up and down with the waves with his hair slicked back. Before he went in, you got a good look at him—before the outbreak, you might’ve been shyer about it. Maybe you would’ve turned your gaze away with heated cheeks. You still had the latter going on, but you most certainly didn’t shy away with your obvious ogling.

You might be dead the next day. No need to turn your sight away from something beautiful.

And Javier is just that. The epitome of beauty.

Javier stripping in front of you will forever be engraved in your mind; he shrugged off his plaided shirt and kicked off his pants, only leaving him in a black undershirt and his boxers. He was surprisingly lean and muscular, he wasn’t a big man, but he wasn’t quite the opposite either. You were surprised to see him jumping into the water with his undershirt, you tucked the question for a later conversation.

He swims closer to you, resting his elbows above the soil. His gaze blatantly exploring your newly exposed skin.

“So you ever plan on getting in, perla? Or are you planning on stealing my clothes and leaving me here?”

A snort bubbles from the back of your throat. “You poor thing. That happened to you?”

“Maybe,” he grins and pushes himself back enough so the back of his head is submerged in running water. “Just get in.”

Finally, with a burst of unfounded courage, you kick off your boots and pants. The chill of the forest embraces your skin. With a pleasant tingle buzzing in your muscles, you walk ankle-deep into the water. You try not to think about your old bra, or your underwear that is scattered with small holes. You especially don’t think about the small hairs dusted above your legs and other patches of skin.

You swallow. The knot in your throat makes it difficult.

You wade further into the river, the cool water embracing your skin, as you turn to him with a hint of uncertainty in your voice. 'Perla?' you ask, and he responds with a fluid motion, gliding effortlessly above the water, following you.

“It means pearl.” he answers, not giving much explanation.

You drop yourself into the water, your head submerged along with your body. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you feel the water rushing around you. The river sings to you in a beautiful hum. Javier is moving somewhere in the water, you can sense his presence. You want to open your eyes, but sadly that is one of the skills you can’t seem to force yourself to gain. You wonder if the water is muddy or crystal clear. You like to think it’s the latter.

You rise to the surface and take in a deep breath of fresh air. You wipe your eyes with the heels of your palm, ringing the excess water from your brows and lashes.

“I know what perla means,” you murmur, blinking at him. “I was trying to ask why you called me that.”

“Yeah, I didn’t really get that from what you said.” he grins, his answer a reminder of this morning. “To answer your question, I don’t really have a satisfying one. I just like pearls and it just came out. I won’t call you that if you don’t want me to.”

Moving your feet, you move upright to face him. Water drops trickle down his sunkissed skin, rolling down his cheeks and down to his neck. Momentarily your eyes drop to his lips, only for you to pull them back up again. Meeting his gaze, you move closer, the heat of his skin plausible despite the cool water running between you two.

“No, I like it.” you answer, you swear your heart nearly stops. “I was just curious.”

You’re not sure if it’s the water or him, but he’s closer. Your pebbled nipples graze against his chest. You suck in a sharp breath.

“When I was a kid, I didn’t have the toughest stomach. I would get sick from almost everything,” he explains. It’s hard to focus on his words when he’s so close. “My abuela— let her soul rest in peace— had these crazy remedies. She would use crushed pearls and mix it with honey or ginger, to make a weird paste thing. Then she would make me eat it. It tasted like shit but supposedly it was supposed to make my nausea go away.”

“Did it?” you ask. Your eyes are wide with innocent, child-like, curiosity. Javier is a natural storyteller. It’s hard not to get sucked into the cadence of his voice.

He shakes his head, laughing. You feel his breath on your cheeks and you lean in. Only a trickle of water moves between you two now.

“It did not, obviously. But I believe it did. I still do. And no matter how bad it tasted and how much I complained…I still took my chances.”

“So you decided to name me after a remedy that doesn’t work?”

“No. I named you after a remedy that I believe works. And I’ll take it, every time.”

In the quiet moment between blinks, the world seems to pause. Your eyelids, like two curtains, draw gently closed and then part again. His words heavy in the clear air. It's a fleeting moment, barely noticeable, and that’s when it happens.

You feel his lips, warm and wet pressing against your mouth. It’s such a simple motion. A tender closeness. Nothing more, nothing less. You don’t even taste his tongue and he’s already pulling back. With a moment of panic, you chase him, capturing his lips once more in a more heated kiss.

That’s when you feel his hands on your waist, pulling you closer underwater, your bodies swimming in unison. He inhales you. And you him. You don’t remember the last time you kissed someone or the last time you thought about it. You groan as his tongue cheats between your lips, your own hands white-knuckled as you hold onto his shoulders.

Javier’s hands grab at your ass, kneading the soft flesh and tracing the crease between them with the tips of his fingers. Suddenly, he’s towering over you, pushing himself further above the waterline as he claims your lips again and again, sucking the air from your lungs and garnering you breathless.

It's not you or him, not really, but rather the river that pushes you apart. A wave rises up, and crashes down. Water rushes into your mouth and nose, filling your lungs with a bitter, icy taste. You're forced back, coughing and gasping for air, as the wave pulls you away from each other.

You move to the riverside, grasping at the slippery rocks. You wait for your breathing to return to normal. Javier’s hands are on your back in an instant, soothing you before they slip in front to rest on your stomach. His chest is flush against your back. You take a shaky inhale and let out a deep breath.

“Are you alright?” he asks and you can barely hear him from the blood rush in your ears.

“I’m fine.” you gasp. “You—You kissed me. Why?”

You’re happy he can’t see your face. The question sounds so juvenile, so unimportant. What did it matter why he kissed you? He did and that was that, and you liked it.

“Instinct. Felt like you needed a kiss.”

You choke out a burst of laughter. Your eyes sting from, what you hope, the water of the river. “Asshole. Don’t try to make it seem like it was for my benefit.”

“I’m willing to say it was for both our benefits.”

“So, it was a one time thing then?”

“Not if you don’t want it to be.”

You turn around and his arms cage you in. You’re smiling. And it’s not the smile you make when you’re awkward, or angry, or sad—it’s genuine. You’re heart feels light and if the beat of it wasn’t steady, you would’ve thought it disappeared. It feels foreign.

Javier rolls his hips, the outline of his cock leaving little to the imagination. It sends electricity up your spine, blinding, and mind-numbing. He’s grinning at you in a way a confident man does when he knows what he’s doing. His face dips into the hallow of your neck. Small, ticklish kisses are left upon your burning skin. With a shudder, your hands tug at the hem of his undershirt.

“Why do you still have this on?” you whine, smiling against his lips. “Can I take it off?”

He tenses under your palms and you stop. His lips are above your pulse, which makes it hard to differentiate the line between right and wrong. Your fingertips buzz with the need to touch and take. His tongue sneaks from between his lips and licks a line up the column, nipping at your jaw.

“Would it kill the mood if I said no?”

You retract your hands and your fingers smooth over the fabric, tugging it down. Your lips part with a soft whimper, arousal gushing between your legs and fading into the water. It wouldn’t kill the mood, no, not when you’re so worked up. But it does make you think. Maybe this isn’t the perfect way to go about this, whatever perfect means in this day and age. There’s still so much you don’t know about him. Your feelings are a whirlwind, threatening to throw you up into the sky and leave you to crash down into the earth.

Your meek sounds of pleasure subside. Javier senses your hesitation. He peels himself unwillingly from your neck and stares fixes you with a leveled gaze.

“You want to get out?”

Entranced, you nod. Your heart beats in your throat, uncomfortable and larger than life itself.

“Yeah,” you answer, a beat above a whisper. “That’s probably for the best.”

“Understood.”

There’s a deep stillness in his eyes. With a dry mouth, all you can do is parrot his answer back to him.

“Understood.”

“What do you miss the most?”

The grass beneath you is soft and cool against your skin, the wind blows warm. A blessing considering the growing cold. The earth is comfortable against your back, a welcomed reprieve from the warmth of the sun above. You feel the trickle of water, your skin damp and pliant from the droplets that still cling to you.

The sun's gentle warmth kisses your skin, the light filtered through rustling leaves. The branches dance and tease, occasionally catching your gaze and tugging you away from the clouds overhead. You can’t help but smile. A memory reminiscent of the days you would do absolutely nothing.

Javier's body lies perpendicular to yours, his face only a breath away. You feel the warmth radiating from his skin, his gaze looking up to the sky, and you wonder what the clouds remind him of. The sun caresses his skin, drying the water droplets that cling to him, much like it does to you.

“What do I miss,” he hums, thoughtful, eyes fluttering shut. “Having a purpose, I guess.”

“A purpose?”

A breathy chuckle escapes his lips. “It’s a bit silly I know, but before FEDRA, I was working in the DEA. My life was always hectic, but at least back then I could argue I was doing good. I was helping people. I liked thinking that I had a noble purpose in life. No matter what happened.”

You turn your head to look at him, taking in his profile against the backdrop of the sky. He slowly opens his eyes, fixes them to the sky. A deep exhale leaves his lungs.

“But now that I think about it, what I did wasn’t really noble back then either. I wish I spent more time with my family. It wouldn’t have been exciting, and I’d probably be bored out of my mind helping dad in the ranch, but at least I would’ve been happier.”

You push your hand towards him and shudder at the way his knuckles brush against yours. Your fingers intertwine, his rough callouses fitting perfectly between the spaces of yours.

“What I’m hearing is you were an adrenaline junkie.”

Your smile widens into a grin when he snorts.

“Perhaps I was.” he muses. “What about you? What do you miss?”

“I’m afraid my answer is less philosophical than yours,” What did you miss? You haven’t really thought about it, until now. Family and friends feel like an obvious answer. But you always felt lonely, even before the outbreak. You suffered from weird attacks you never got diagnosed, and when you attempted to explain them by calling them “something like a panic attack” you were always shut down, being told that if it was a panic attack, it would be far more serious.

So, naturally, you closed up. Simmered in the heavy weight on your chest, crying with your hand between your legs, hoping someone one day would show up and close up the gap that you felt. You were so lonely. But that person never came along, and then the world ended.

“Cooking.” you answer, gauging his reaction. He squeezes your hand, thumb moving in circles on your skin. “Well, baking to be precise. I loved baking. Coffee—god, music, I miss music.”

“Music,” he agrees. “I miss that too. Maybe if we find a guitar or something…”

“You know how to play?” you perk up, a grin ready to take form.

His laughter comes at the same time as the wind. The blends seamlessly with the rustling of leaves and the gentle sway of branches. It vibrates in your bones, as though his laughter is a part of the very fabric of nature itself.

“No, but I can learn. Some noise is better than none.”

“Yeah,” you answer, seamlessly. “It is.”

Javier was being followed. He walked past the broken-down toy shop, his steps now faster. He could feel the gaze that watched his every step. It was the crack of the morning, which was the only time he and Micheal could meet. Everything was becoming a mess of badly executed plans with feeling motifs. Every nerve felt like a live wire. It was hard sneaking around. Especially when you lived in a time where even the walls had eyes.

“Peña!”

Javier jumped and turned, gun pointing at whoever was behind him. He saw the sight of familiar green eyes, then let out a breath.

“Adam?” putting his gun back, he cocked an eyebrow. “What the hell are you following me for?”

“I wasn’t following you,” he answered, almost offended. “I was looking for you. Murph brought in a lead we might be able to use and Carillo wanted me to let you know.”

Javier nodded, ignoring the younger man’s curiosity-filled gaze. When they started to move, much to his annoyance, Adam began to voice out his rather loud thoughts.

“What are you doing here anyway? You weren’t posted here, you were meant to patrol the east side.”

“Felt like a walk,” he grunted. “And I don’t answer to you, pendejo.”

Javier and Adam walked in silence as they made their way toward the Fedra headquarters. The old building was barely holding up, with paint peeling off the walls and cracks running through the ceiling. The air inside was stale and smelled of musty old books, a reminder of the once-functioning library that the Fedra headquarters used to be.

They were greeted by Carillo and Murphy, who led them to the interrogation room. A string of curses raised all the way up to the tip of his tongue. On the other side of the glass, a man was sitting down, someone he recognize very vaguely. The man was young-ish, with curly black hair and a mustache supported by a messily shaved beard. His leg bobbed up and down nervously as he waited.

Carillo grinned as he gestured towards the glass. "This is Henry. Apparently, he's willing to give us information in exchange for medicine for his younger brother."

“Is that so,” Javier answered, his gaze never leaving Henry. “And what information might that be?”

The room was small and cramped, with peeling wallpaper and a flickering lightbulb. Javier noticed a small crack in the wall that seemed to grow wider with each passing moment. He couldn't help but feel a sense of unease in this dilapidated building, with its creaking floors and musty air.

“The leader of the resistance. He’s going to help us catch him.”

The corner of Javier’s lips twitched as he forced a smile. He could barely contain the heave of his chest, the fast-paced breaths he so desperately wanted to let out.

His mind raced. Everything was about to get a hell of a lot worse.

Your eyes are wide open, your body stiff and alert.

It’s been a while since you and Javier decided to go to bed. Moonlight filtered through the windows, long shadows of leaves moving across the ceiling of the train. You breathe slowly; one breath in, a long breath out. You hear him. He’s mumbling something in his sleep, moving, thrashing over his bed, the springs squeaking under his weight.

On nights like this, you try to ignore it. But it’s different this time. Memories of earlier today flood your mind; him kissing you in the river, his length pressed against the softness of your stomach, his lust-blown pupils. Then there was the moment where you laid on the grass, talking for hours with your fingers interlaced until you had to leave. You don’t have it in you to abandon him. For him to fend off the nightmares alone.

Just hearing the sounds he makes…so full of pain, raw and emotional— there’s no way you can go back to sleep.

Heading to his side of the car, you silently watch him. Again, he’s wearing his black undershirt and a pair of boxers. He’s laying on his stomach, one leg outstretched and one curled to the side. One hand is on the pillow whilst the other is balled into a tight fist, touching his lips. A choked whimper comes from the back of his throat.

“Javier,” you call out, taking a step forward. “Javier wake up.”

He doesn’t. So you try again. This time you reach out, the heat of your palm pressing into the slope of his shoulder. Honestly, you should’ve known better than to touch someone who’s buried deep in a nightmare. Especially in this day and age.

“Jav—”

Your reaction is close to none when you find yourself thrown to the bed, a sharp blade at your neck, drawing the smallest amount of blood. You breathe steadily. His fingers have your wrist in an iron grip, and the look in his eyes— deranged, still wet from the mirages of his past. The physical outburst isn’t enough to phase you, but the look in his eyes surely is.

“It’s me,” you whisper, careful not to touch him. His jaw is locked, nostrils flaring with heavy breaths. “You were seeing a nightmare. It’s okay. Nothing’s wrong. It’s just you and me—Perla, remember?”

“Perla,” he repeats slowly, lips remaining parted as he stares down at you. “Mi Perla.”

The silence stretches between you two. Both of your heartbeats echo loud between the metal walls. Blood continues to trickle down your neck, staining the worn out sheets. His eyes drop to the wound, the small cut, and as if scorched, he throws the knife. It crashes to the floor with a loud clatter. The sound makes you jerk, a moment of fear evident enough for him to see.

“Sorry.” he blurts out. “Fuck—shit—I…I didn’t mean to. Force of habit.” he shakes his head, his entire body trembling. “Are you okay? I didn’t—Why did you—”

You raise your hand and his mumbling fades away. Your fingers hover an inch away from his face, you can almost feel the heat, the sweat that gathered in his pores. You give him a pleading look.

“Can I?” Can I touch you?

He chokes out, “Yes.” Please do.

You rest your hand against his cheek. Just as you expected, his skin is damp. Your thumb rests right under his eye and you caress the soft skin. You’re surprised that he leans into your touch, seeking more of the comfort you promise to provide. You close your eyes and sigh. You allow your hand to slide to his neck, smoothing out the nooks and crannies in his shoulder.

Javier groans as he dips down, you feel his lips on your neck, tongue darting to clean the blood. A whimper escapes you when he tenderly kisses the wound, his mouth moving slowly, gradually. Like he’s kissing your mouth. Heat coils in your stomach. Arousal pools between your legs. You play with the short hairs that are mussed against the back of his neck.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask, breathless.

He shakes his head, his voice stern. “No.”

So you don’t.

Javier crashes into you, breathing you in. It’s desperate, needy, and fearful. In fear of what—you’re not sure, but you have some guesses.

You throw away your shirt and in a fit, you kick off your sweatpants. Even those brief moments of being a part are too much for you to handle, you drink him in like you would a fine wine. Your lips crashing into his again and again.

You moan into his mouth and he swallows them all. Sucking your tongue between his teeth, he nips the soft muscle and squeezes your hips, grinding himself against your clothed sex. Your fingers trace the fabric of his shirt, tugging, but not attempting to remove it. He licks your bottom lip before breaking away from you, he sits back on his knees.

“Sorry,” he says. “You must think I’m trying to be all mysterious. I swear I’m not.”

“I wasn’t thinking that. You don’t have to remove it if you don’t want to,” your eyes drop to his crotch, a grin tugging at your lips as you witness the bulge. You drag your foot up his thigh. He shudders. “All we need is down here.”

“Aren’t you charming,” his tongue thoughtfully moves over his bottom lip. You sigh as you remember how it felt against your own. “Just promise me you won’t ask any questions. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t even want to think about it.”

You make a cross over your heart and raise your hand, he chuckles.

“Alright then.”

You’re ashamed to admit it, but you’re acting a bit like you’re in heat. He slowly peels the fabric off and your hands immediately find a spot on his waist. Your mouth waters at the exposed skin. You smooth your palms over his stomach, your lips pursing to leave kiss after kiss over his torso.

You notice it as you start leaning over. Your eyes drawn to the massive white scar that runs from Javier’s heart all the way down to his Adonis belt. It stands out starkly against his tanned skin. Your breath catches in your throat. The veins in your temples throb loudly in your ears. With a dry mouth, you look up to him and he sees the questions in your eyes.

“You promised.”

Fuck, you did but you’re regretting it now.

You’re used to small scars, a bullet wound, or two. Everyone has them, including you. But you’ve never seen a scar this big. It’s death carved into his skin. Your mind races and he fixes you a steady gaze. This cut wasn’t from Kathleen and the resistance, so it must’ve happened before that. But what on earth would leave a scar so big? And how the hell did he survive it?

Your cheeks feeling unbearably warm, you finally tear your gaze away. You feel his fingers thread through your hair, and they slowly move down to your shoulder, an ache for skin on skin contact.

You dip down, press your lips above the end of his scar, you feel the dip of his adonis through your mouth. Javier inhales deeply and sharply. Ignoring the heaving of his chest, you dart your tongue out and lick a steady line, following the traces of the closed wound. His nails bite into your scalp, his hips stutter forward, the outline of his cock caught against the curve of your shoulder.

Words die on your tongue. You want to say something, you’re just not sure what. If you apologized, expressed grief for his past, he would think of it as pity. If you asked about it, he’d say you’ve broken your promise.

So you thank him instead.

Javier enjoys that. He pushes his hands between the crease of your underarms and pulls you up, kissing you breathless. He squeezes the meat of your ass and pins you against him. You whine into his mouth. With a grin, he bites your bottom lip and tugs it between his teeth.

“I want to taste you.”

“Fuck, Javi,” your eyes roll back and you shudder. Your underwear sticks uncomfortably to your pussy, and it pains you that you’re shaking your head. “As much as I want that…I need your cock.”

Javier cups your mound, fingers digging into your clothed folds. You gasp when the rough fabric brushes against your clit. You brace yourself by holding his shoulder and pressing your lips into his neck.

“You’re so wet, shit, baby.” he groans as he grinds his hips, you whimper. “How are you this worked up already? When was the last time you’ve been with someone?”

Your sudden hesitation to answer earns you an understanding gaze from him. Javier pulls back slightly, the movements of his fingers more gentle.

“It’s been long,” you whisper and look away.

“How long?”

“None after the outbreak and even before that...two years.”

He snorts and you fix him a not so serious glare.

“Don’t pity me. It’s not all bad. I learned how to get rather creative when masturbating.”

“I’m sure you have,” he answers, staring at your darkly. “Can’t wait to see it.”

Javier drags his nose up your neck, you’re positive he can hear how excited you are. Like your heart is about to stop.

“Say it again,” he grunts. “Tell me how bad you want my cock.”

You sigh. “So bad.”

“Mi Perla…I thought you learned how to get creative.”

He sinks his teeth into your neck and you cry out, your entire body quivering as he holds you upright. He’s quick to lap at the teeth marks, lowering his head, he pushes you back so he can swirl his tongue over your peaked nipple. Arousal gushes between your legs. Your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Please,” you whisper. “Please, fuck me Javier. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life. I want you to fill me up with that big cock of yours, fucking me into submission—”

The last addition stumbled out of your lips, stunning you into sudden silence. You awkwardly stare up at the ceiling, shadows of trees moving and mocking you. Heat spreads under your skin. You don’t realize how tense you are until Javier nips the swell of your breasts, bringing you back to him. His fingers pull at your chin and you find yourself looking into his big brown eyes.

Your eyes drop to the curve of his lips, and you stop breathing.

“Fuck you into submission hmm?” he taunts, his pupils blown wide. “Looks like the little firefly is tired of being a hardened criminal.”

“Shuddup,” you pout, averting your gaze. “Don’t read much into it. I said it in the heat of the moment.”

“Sure you did, sweetheart.”

Javier hooks his fingers into your thighs and suddenly you’re falling back down, the old bed creaking with protest. Before you can say anything, his weight presses into you like a heavy blanket. You moan at the heat, the feel of his skin against yours. His lips latch onto a nipple and you spread your legs wide for him, the soft ache in your thighs making your cunt drip.

“Let’s see if you’re ready to take my big cock,” he rasps, fingers moving to slide your sticky panties to the side. “You want my fingers, baby?”

You nod and he clicks his tongue with disapproval.

“If you want me to fuck you into submission, you gotta use your words.”

You finally snap.

“God, yes. I want your fingers. How many times am I going to have to say it? I want you, Javier. I’m going to explode if you don’t fuck me soon.”

He grins at your frustration. Two thick fingers slide up between your wet folds, circling your clit. You gasp, teary eyes fluttering shut. His lips touch one, then the other. Then you feel him on your cheeks, nose, neck. You tremble.

“Don’t tempt me.”

Two of his fingers sink into your heat without warning, your head falls back with a moan, your legs tight around his frame. Shit, it feels good. Of course he’s good at fingering, god forbid Javier Peña is bad at anything. Your breathing becomes fast paced, your heart beating a mile in your chest. Scissoring his fingers, Javier nips at your chin. Heat coils tight in your stomach. You whimper his name, not knowing what else to do. One part of you is afraid. If you’re feeling this unbridled with just his fingers, what the hell is going to happen to you when he gives you his cock?

Your fear goes unnoticed by him. He curls his fingers, applies pressure right where you need him. His eyes follow your every expression. You can feel it. Licking your lips, you raise your hips to meet the thrust of his fingers, Javier hums his approval and fucks them deeper. His knuckles brush your aching clit and you scream out, your fingers grabbing his wrist.

“Too much?” he asks, but his tone lacks any actual remorse. He sounds pleased.

Asshole.

“Javi,” your breath hitches and you push yourself off the bed, pressing your lips right where his scar starts. Above his heart. “I need you.”

The growl Javier lets out reverberates through his chest, sending tremors through the air and into your bones. It’s a visceral sound, primal and raw. Your lips follow the outline of his jaw. He acts like a beast, nuzzling towards your lips and grinding his molars together.

He pulls out his fingers, a whine ripping from your throat at the sudden emptiness. His mouth brushes the shell of your ear.

“Good thing about being in an abandoned train,” he says, warm breath fanning your damp skin. You shiver. “You can be as loud as you want to.”

Javier’s hand comes up to your chest and he pushes you back down. Your breath catches in your throat as he looks down at his cock and spits. He wraps a hand around himself, meeting your gaze as he strokes his cock. You hold your breath as he comes closer, every nerve alive and burning. The head of his cock sinks into your heat, and you both let out a long, breathless moan.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” you groan, head falling back. “Fuck, that feels good. Holy shit–”

“It does,” he hums, capturing your lips and speaking between moments of exchanged breaths. “And this is only the tip, querida.”

With every inch being buried, you feel your body sinking further into the bed. You feel like lead. Pleasure skims your skin. With shallow thrusts, he works you open, stretching you wide. He nips at your collarbone, the sensitive skin tucked between his teeth, he pushes further until he’s flushed against you.

You’re shaking, your hips frantically trembling and jerking. Javier waits for you to adjust to his size. He’s incredibly deep. So deep that saliva floods your mouth, a bit of spit trailing down the corner of your lips as you cry out. He flexes his cock, and more slick trickles down your thighs. Your hands frantically pull him closer, as if he wasn’t already flushed against your chest, but he obliges, allowing his weight to fully cave down on you.

“I’m here,” he mutters. You don’t expect the sudden sting of tears filling your lash line. “We’re both alive. We’re both okay.”

Your walls flutter around him, and he lets out a sharp breath. Meeting his gaze, you blink.

A sudden guilt consumes you. You should be the one consoling him. He’s the one that was woken up from a nightmare. It should be you saying those things. Not the other way around. But Javier doesn’t seem to mind. He squeezes your hip and pushes himself upright.

“Can I move?”

“Please.”

He slowly rolls his hips, watching his cock disappear into your quivering cunt with heavy lids, a white ring at the thick base. When your hands aimlessly attempt to grab at him, he takes a hold of your wrists, using your arms as a leash.

“Messy girl,” he huffs, grinding deeper into you. Your eyes roll back. “You’re taking me so well, baby. You’re so fucking wet for me, I love it.”

A fire builds in your core, slick sounds flooding the small space. Pulling out almost all the way, Javier slams back into you, emptying the air from your lungs. His pace becomes more frantic and desperate with every thrust. Your arms ache as he yanks your body to meet the flush of his hips. The wry hairs at the base of his cock sending jolts up your body, your clit aching from the rough drag of it. You cry out his name, over and over, repeating it like a chant. His cock throbs at the squeak of your voice. Javier buries himself completely inside, grinding himself impossibly deep, stroking the sensitive spot inside.

You’re not going to last, and if the shallow stuttering of his hips is any indication, Javier isn’t going to last either. You dig your nails into your sweaty palms. His fingers still tight around your throbbing wrists.

“Kiss me,” you beg with a choked moan.

And he does. Breathlessly. Again and again. The lack of oxygen makes your head spin. His lips are so soft, so tender. He licks into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. He lets go of your wrists and cups your breasts, rolling the peaked flesh with his thumbs. Your orgasm crests over you like a tide, your chest stammers, your breath catching in your throat. Your muscles go stiff, and then relax again. His cock twitches as you gush around him, slick pouring between your legs and wetting the mattress underneath.

With clenched teeth, your body arches into him and you bear your neck. He bites into the offered flesh, blossoms of pain making your walls clench around him. Javier moans, laps at your salty skin, groaning, his hips jerk—deeper and deeper—until he becomes still.

Your entire body is lit aflame as he spills into you. Instinctively, your hands cover your face, soft whimpers seeping into the heat of your palms. His cock pulses, and your muscles tense as you milk him for every last drop, your cunt clenching and fluttering around him.

Javier smooths his lips over your knuckles, kissing the back of your hands as you slowly come down from your high. Breathing heavily, you allow your arms to go limp and fall. His eyes flit between your lips and eyes, he dips down to claim your mouth in a less draining kiss.

“That was great,” he breathes into your mouth. “How are you feeling, perla?”

“Like a hundred bucks,” you answer, grinning. “I forgot how good sex can be.”

Your smile falters when he pulls out. Now that the heat of your orgasm is fading, you’re not sure what to do. Your body feels nice and limp, and god, you do not want to move.

His seed trickles down your folds and you let out a soft gasp, your pussy fluttering. Javier seems to enjoy that, he grins and spreads your legs.

“Bonita.” he purrs, dipping his thumb into the mess. Your head falls. “I’ll get you cleaned up in the morning.”

“I’ll take care of it,” you answer, making a show of getting up. Javier frowns and wraps his fingers around your ankle, it’s not a tight grip, he’s just holding you. Your gaze drops. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You can sleep here,” he drags the pads of his fingers up your legs and you shudder. “With me.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“Believe me,” he says, voice dipping. “This is no bother.”

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x fem!reader #narcos fic #narcos x reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #hbo the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #fedra!javier #firefly reader!#tlou au

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neonghostlights · 1 year

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A/N: I'm taking a break I swear.

Summary: You haven’t been the same since you woke up in the hospital with memory loss after the earthquake hit Hawkins. When strange things start happening and you feel like you’ve started losing your mind, a group of strangers offer to help. Even though you’ve never met them before, they seem to know you better than you think.

Wordcount: 4k

Warnings: Nosebleed, brief mention of church, Angst, Readers kind of mean to Eddie but she is starting to go really downhill and it's just gonna get worse from here. 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

Series Masterlist

I am no longer doing a tag list for this series.

Part Seven

Saturday, September 27th, 1986

The afternoon sun beat down on the top of your head. The sweet tea you were sipping on kept you from getting too overheated. The weather would start to change soon. It was nice to enjoy some warmth before the fall.

Eddie had the upper half of his body under the hood of your car. The hem of his black t-shirt rising slightly to show the pale expanse of his lower back. You could catch a sliver of the band of his boxers peeking out.

Had you shut yourself away from the outside world so much that a pair of blue checkered boxes were scandalizing? If he kept this up you were going to have to start fanning yourself like the women in those old films to keep yourself from swooning.

The past hour of Eddie working had been silent, making you wonder if he even remembered you were out there with him.

When he showed up to your house he didn’t mention anything about your episode the other day. His eyes traced your body up and down, like he was making sure nothing was out of place. Like he was afraid asking if you were okay would set you off. When he saw everything still in place, he asked you to sit with him while he worked.

Eddie peeked over his shoulder at you, catching your shameful staring. The sides of his mouth twitched at the sight.

You diverted your eyes quickly, pretending to be entranced by the hunk of oiled metal in his hand.

“So,” you started off timidly, hoping he wouldn’t bring up your gawking. “What’s left for the car?”

Eddie turned around to face you fully at this, arms crossed over his chest.

“Why? Are you trying to get rid of me?” He asked smugly.

“No,” you said firmly. “Just wondering. I feel bad for not asking questions about what you’re doing. I also need to know how much I’m going to owe you for all this.” You waved your hand at your car.

“Well, not sure on the price yet. I’ll let you know when I know. There’s a few things I’m waiting for to arrive at the shop that I ordered. Plus, I’m trying to get my hands on this really important part that might take a while to get here. They’re really hard to find,” he announced with a shrug.

“Really? What part is that?” You sat up with your spine straight in your chair, suddenly more interested than you had been. Whatever this was, it sounded expensive. If it came down to it, asking your mom for money wouldn’t be the worst decision you could make. Putting up with her lectures would just be something you’d have to deal with.

“It’s this….thing. It holds the whole car together. Yours is super rusted so it’s a wonder the whole car hasn’t fallen apart while you’ve been driving.”

“Oh, god. That sounds bad.” You pressed a hand to your forehead, anxiety causing a headache to start. You dropped your hand, focusing on the weeds that grew through the crack in the pavement below your feet.

Eddie must have noticed the grimace on your face. “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll get you back on the road before you know it. Do you trust me?”

You bit your chapped lips. Did you trust him? Despite his reputation, you had no reason not to trust him. He had shown you nothing but kindness since he started coming around.

You slowly nodded your head.

A wide, beautiful smile spread across his face. That traitorous organ in your chest stuttered at the sight. You worried that you might have to start pounding at your own chest to get it back into a normal rhythm.

“Good,” he sighed like it was a relief, still standing and staring at you.

You shifted your hips in your chair, feeling your skin buzz under his stare. You decided to stand and walk over to the radio propped up on the roof of your car. The feeling of his eyes on you as you sauntered over made you feel alive.

Probably more alive than you had felt in a while.

You loved it.

You fiddled with the station, flipping from a static filled metal station to a country one. Daring a glance at Eddie, you noticed the dramatic nose scrunch he made at the music change.

His face made you laugh. “Got any good tapes with you?” You asked.

“Hm…I think I definitely have a few that you would like in there.” He gestured towards the parked van.

You moved towards his van, a hand placed on the handle, but his body suddenly blocked you from opening the door. You looked up at him confused, wondering if maybe you had overstepped by trying to go into his car.

“Sorry. I just remembered it’s really messy in there. I’ll look around for something, okay?” His voice was urgent. You fought the urge to peek through the window.

“Okay,” you agreed, stepping back and walking back to the radio to allow him some privacy. You could hear him shuffling and cursing under his breath as he dug around in search of whatever tape he had in mind.

It was funny to think maybe it was you causing him to be so flustered.

He held the tape up in his hand triumphantly as he walked back towards you. His body crowding yours as he reached onto the roof of the car to put the tape in. He didn’t move away, he just watched your face as you heard The Smith’s start to play.

You raised a curious eyebrow at him as you let out a little laugh. “Didn’t take you as a Smith’s fan,” you stated.

“They’ve got some alright stuff. Are you a fan?”

“I love them.” You couldn’t help the smile, so wide it was aching your cheeks.

The feeling in the air shifted as ’How Soon Is Now?’ played. His eyes flicked from yours down to your mouth then up to your eyes again.

When had he gotten so close to you?

And how could you get him even closer?

For some reason, the decreasing space between the two of you felt so right, like it was clearing the fog from your head. You wanted to hold onto this brief moment of clarity. A moment in time where your head didn’t ache, your nose didn’t bleed, and the nightmares couldn’t get you. Being here with him felt safe, like Eddie was a protective cocoon that wrapped you up and shielded you from all of the bad things.

“Good,” he muttered, reaching to run his thumb gently across your cheek. So softly like he was afraid you might shatter if he put an ounce of pressure behind his touch.

You wanted to shatter in his hands though. Only because it felt like when you were nothing but pieces, only he would be able to put you back together again.

His eyes searched through yours, a silent question that you didn’t know the answer to. But you wished you did.

His face was closer now, his thumb still on your cheek. You tilted your chin up to reach him as he tilted his head and brought it down towards yours. Your eyes flutter shut, scared that if you keep them open your mind will find a way to ruin this one ounce of happiness.

And just before you could feel his lips on yours, he pulled away.

You snap your eyes open to find him standing a foot away now, hands tucked tightly into the pockets of his jeans.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t- I should probably go now,” he blabbered.

You couldn’t help but feel hurt. He was turning you down. It was a harsh slap to the ego to see him so regretful over almost kissing you.

“Right,” you agreed, keeping your voice light like your feelings weren’t hurt.

His face fell as he took you in. His pity was definitely not what you wanted right now.

He didn’t look at you as he packed up his things, shoving them into the back of the van.

You made it up the porch steps when you heard your name called behind you.

Eddie stood at the bottom of the steps, looking up at you.

“Do you want to go out sometime? With me?” He asked, sheepishly. You could see the way he fidgeted with the rings he had put back on his fingers.

“Like on a date?” You prayed you didn’t sound as giddy as you felt on the inside.

“Yes. A date,” he nodded enthusiastically.

“Okay. I think I’d like that,” you agreed, trying to keep your cool. You could already imagine the happy dance you would do once you shut the door.

“Cool! Okay. Let me get my schedule from work for this week and I’ll let you know when.” That smile was back now. His dimples in full force.

You said your goodbyes, both of you hardly containing your happiness. Once inside, you did your little happy shimmy behind the door.

You peaked out the curtain and laughed when you saw Eddie doing his own happy dance on the way to his van.

Sunday, September 28th, 1986

“I’m going to be late for church,” your mother fretted as she maneuvered down the roads of Hawkins.

You kept your head turned away from her, focusing on the window. It was weird driving by sites where the earthquake still left its proof in the earth. It seemed like some people in town lived their everyday life pretending it didn’t happen, like half of the town didn’t fall into the deep chasms in the ground.

Like there weren't men in suits and people in hazmat gear still hanging around.

Your mom was one of the people who pretended it didn’t happen. She found ways to distract herself, mostly by throwing a fit over something new everyday.

She didn’t go to church every Sunday, but on the Sundays that she did, she made sure everyone knew about it.

And if she happened to be late, she would make sure everyone knew it was because of you.

Her attitude has gotten worse lately. Everything you said was met with a snarky remark. You missed the days where you felt like she worried because she loved you. Now it just felt like you were a burden.

You couldn’t wait for Eddie to be finished with your car so you could feel an ounce of freedom. You loved your mom, but if you had to go grocery shopping with her one more time you were going to lose it even more than you already had.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the thought of your favorite mechanic.

You didn’t tell your mom that Eddie was working on your car. As far as she knew, you were saving money and trying to get worked into the schedule of the very busy mechanic shops in town.

You chanced a glance at your mother, scared that somehow she can read your mind now and will start berating you for thinking about Eddie Munson.

‘The maniac devil-worshiping serial killer’ she once called him when she saw a picture of him in the newspaper.

You nodded along, agreeing with everything she said because you didn’t know him then. You hadn’t even looked at the picture in the newspaper, His name sparked didn’t spark interest in you like it did now.

You can remember another time, you were having a bad day, the headaches and nosebleeds were constant. It wasn’t long after you left the hospital and you were struggling with the fact that you couldn’t even remember your high school graduation.

You sat on the couch in your mothers living room hugging a throw pillow to your chest. This was before you moved out, watching the evening news with her and trying to act like you weren’t on a downward spiral. His face and name were on the news, discussing his charges being dropped.

Your mom gave you a long lecture that night on who he was, and why you should stay far away from him. Even going as far as saying that if you saw him in the same store as you, then leave.

Back then, you agreed. Willing to do anything to keep yourself safe and your mom happy.

Now you knew she didn’t know him like you did. She would take the gossip and things she heard around town as fact.

“Why would a video store be open on a Sunday anyways?” She asked, bringing you back to the present.

“I don’t know, mom,” you sighed, eyes never straying from the landscape. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Sometimes you felt like you reverted back to your moody teenage years.

The car pulled into the parking lot of the shopping center. “Shoot,” she muttered under her breath.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot I’m supposed to be volunteering with some ladies for a food drive after church. I really can’t miss it…” She chewed on her lip as she stared at the front door of Family Video.

“Do you need me to get a ride? I can ask Robin,” you offered quickly. You would walk all the way home if it meant you could get the hell out of the car and let her go on about her day.

Your mom thought for a second, like she was pondering if that was allowed or not. You wanted to scream, tell her that you were an adult. Despite your issues, you could still make adult decisions.

“I suppose that’s okay,” she finally said.

You sighed and climbed out of the car.

Steve wasn’t at work today, leaving just you and Robin to man the store on your own.

It was probably the best day you had since you worked there.

“I forgot to ask,” you said as you picked up a stack of tapes that had just been returned. “Do you think you can give me a ride home? It’s not too far from town. I can give you some gas money too.”

“Oh, sorry. I don’t drive. Steve’s picking me up. I can ask him…” She trailed off awkwardly. The unspoken words hanging in the air. Steve probably wouldn’t give you a ride home. If he did, it would not be a fun car ride.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” You waved your hand in the air like it wasn’t a big deal. You wracked your brain for a moment before an idea dawned on you. “Actually, do you have Eddie’s number?”

Eddie agreed immediately when you asked him for a ride home.

He showed up 15 minutes before closing to pick you up. He waved enthusiastically through the store window when he noticed you staring.

All thoughts about being a burden for needing a ride disappeared when you caught sight of his joyous face.

Robin nudged you playfully when she noticed your bashful smile.

“Come on. Let’s finish up so you can go see him,” she said with a smile.

You rushed through closing, excited to get going. By the time you and Robin locked up for the night, Steve was standing next to Eddie’s van. Eddie leaned up against the passenger side door, a forgotten cigarette burning in his hand.

The conversation looked tense. Steve’s hands moved through the air while Eddie kept his mouth pressed in a thin line, his jaw tense.

Eddie lit up when he saw you approach. He tossed the cigarette to the side, stomping it out with his boot. He waved his hand in the air to try to clear the smoke before you got closer.

And they say chivalry is dead.

“You ready to go?” He asked, cutting Steve off mid sentence.

“Yep,” you chirped. “Hi, Steve,” you say politely.

He nodded his head at you as a greeting, not saying anything to you. You could see the way Eddie’s hands turned into fists for a moment as he glared at Steve before seeming to remember that you were standing right there.

He turned and opened the door for you to climb into the van. You could tell based on the crumbs and small pieces of trash on the floor that he had done his best to clean it up. A strong smelling air freshener hung from the rearview mirror.

When he jumped in the front seat he turned and smiled at you.

“Hi.”

“Hi. Thank you for picking me up. I’m really sorry for having to call you…”

“I told you I can give you rides!” He exclaimed. “It’s really no problem. I’m happy I get to see you again.”

There were those damn butterflies again. You covered your mouth with your hand to hide your traitorous smile.

Eddie pulled out of the parking lot. You noticed he was going slightly under the speed limit, surprising because he usually pulls into your driveway like a bat out of hell.

“Do you mind if I stop by the gas station real quick? I just wanted to run in and get a few snacks,” he explained.

“Yep! That’s fine,” you said. Even with him going under the speed limit the car ride was going by way too quickly. Before you knew it, you were pulling into the gas station.

Eddie hopped out of the van. “Do you want anything?” He asked.

You shook your head no.

“Okay, well, I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere,” he said with a wink.

You watched as he crossed the parking lot. People loitering around the building eyed him suspiciously. Luckily, no one bothered him.

You looked around the van a bit, hoping to get an insight into Eddie. It wouldn’t hurt to snoop a little bit. You were positive if the roles were reversed he would definitely go through your things.

The cloth seats were surprisingly comfortable. You ran your finger over what looked like a cigarette burn that left a hole in the seat. You wondered who sat here before you to leave that permanent mark in his van.

You glanced back over at the gas station, seeing Eddie still roaming the aisles through the large windows.

Deciding the best place to snoop was the glovebox, you popped open the latch and started digging around inside.

Scraps of paper and some trash fell out first. You pushed some tapes aside, thinking that there would be nothing of interest until your eye caught onto pink cloth.

You reached your hand tentatively to grab it.

You held up the cloth to realize it was a pink scrunchy. You checked back to make sure Eddie wasn’t coming out of the store.

You were confused. Eddie wore black all of the time. He didn’t seem like the type to wear a pink scrunchie in his hair. But what did you know?

Setting the scrunchie in your lap, you reached your hand back into the glovebox to see what else you could find. Your hand made contact with smooth glass. You pulled it out to inspect it.

Your stomach dropped when you saw what it was.

Perfume.

Girl's perfume.

You shoved the perfume and scrunchie back where it belonged and slammed the latch shut.

Eddie has a girlfriend.

And if it’s not a girlfriend, then he has a girl in his car enough for her to keep her things in here.

Your stomach dropped and your chest felt like it was cracking in half.

If he has a girlfriend, why would he flirt with you and ask you on a date?

No wonder he didn’t want you to go into his van yesterday to find a tape. He didn’t want you to find out and ruin the little game he was playing.

The driver side door swung open. “Hey, sorry it took me so long. I couldn’t decide on which soda I wanted. But I got you this,” he said as he handed you a bag of M&M’s and a Dr. Pepper.

“Thanks. These are my favorites,” you said quietly.

“You okay?” He questioned. A concerned look crossed over his face as he looked at you, making you wonder how awful you looked right now.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Just really tired.” You did your best to muster a smile.

He looked like he didn’t believe you but decided not to press any further. The rest of the car ride to your house was awkward and quiet, filled with Eddie’s attempts to joke and make you laugh. You could tell your one worded answers were hurting his feelings but you didn’t really care.

He pulled into your driveway and opened the passenger side door to help you out of the van. He walked beside you silently up your porch steps and to your front door.

“Look, are you okay? Because you’re being really quiet, and I don’t know if I did something or if you’re not feeling well…”

You looked up at him, his hair and face illuminated by the porch light you always left on. He twisted and turned the rings on his hand as he searched your face for a clue on why you were suddenly acting so distant to him.

The fact that he was acting so innocent made you even more mad.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” You asked, the words coming out as a harsh accusation.

Eddie looked taken aback for a moment. “Yes- I mean no-” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment before speaking again. “No. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Then why did you just say yes so quickly?” You pressed.

“It’s complicated,” he sighed. “I didn’t mean to say yes.”

“He’s lying,” a deep voice whispered in your head, surprising you with its intensity.

The voice was right. Eddie was lying.

Your temples pounded. The edges of your vision start to turn black from the incoming pain.

You needed to go inside.

“I don’t believe you,” you gritted out.

“Why? Did Steve say something to you?” His voice came out strained and angry.

“He’s hiding something from you,” the voice informed you.

“No, no one told me anything. If you don’t have a girlfriend, then what is there for Steve to tell me? And if you don’t have a girlfriend then why is her perfume and scrunchy in your van? Am I some kind of joke to you?” Your voice was growing louder with each word you said. You could feel the anger pouring through your bloodstream.

An unnatural anger that you had never felt before in your life.

You didn’t care if you were overreacting or not. You just wanted to get him away from you.

You turned and unlocked your door quickly, ignoring the pleading look from Eddie beside you.

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Look, can I come in and we can talk about this?”

“He’s trying to use you. Don’t let him in,” the voice that only you could hear stated.

You listened to the voice, trusting it fully. You couldn’t trust Eddie.

“Shit, are you okay? Your nose is bleeding, and you look really pale.” Eddie’s hand reached towards you, but you pushed it away.

“Stay the fuck away from me, Eddie. Don’t come back here or I’ll call the cops and tell them how much of a creep you are,” you spat.

Eddie reared back like he had been hit. His mouth opened as he stared at you in shock.

He didn’t move to reach out to you again as you swung the door open and stomped inside, turning to lock it immediately after it shut.

You even shut off the porch light for good measure, leaving him in darkness.

You crawled to your bed, not caring if he made it back to the van or not. Not even bothering to clean the now drying blood on your face or change out of your work clothes.

How had you not seen he was messing with you? Was he just trying to get in your pants the whole time? Or was he going to butter you up in hopes of getting more money out of you when it came time to pay him for his work? Were he and Steve acting like highschoolers and teaming up to make you miserable? Was Robin in on it too?

One thing you knew for certain, was that you would never trust Eddie Munson again.

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson au #eddie munson series #mechanic!eddie munson x reader #mechanic!eddie munson #mechanic!eddie #mechanic eddie munson #eddie munson angst

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thetriplets3 · 10 months

Note

hi lovely! i hope ur having a good day. can you please do “coming over without warning and bringing their favorite meal when they're having a bad day” with matt? thank you so much!

Thank you for your request! I hope you like it <3

☼ sunshine in the darkness ☼

TW: mentions of a minor depressive episode, anxiety, alludes to skipping meals, negative self talk.

A dark heavy cloud of emotions has loomed over me for the past few days. Doing the most basic of things felt impossible. I only had a few trips to the kitchen to grab a snack and the washroom. The world seems to move by me as I spend my days in bed blankly staring at the wall letting my mind roam to anything and everything, and you.

Guilt fills my chest as I realize my phone died 2 days ago and I just couldn’t be bothered to charge it and you probably think I’m ignoring you. Tears fill my eyes. This is a common occurrence with me and I can’t help but feel bad for making you deal with my on and off again emotions, shutting you out then coming back like nothing happened. Why do you stay? It’s not fair to you. Letting a few stray tears fall I pull my duvet cover up to my chin with a heavy sigh, letting my emotions out.

I’m too far in my own head to have realized that you have let yourself in my house and are standing in front of me. I watch you emotionlessly as you place a bag on my dresser and crouch in front of me.

“Hi sweet girl. What can I do to help you?” Your voice so soft and gentle it brings me all the comfort I’ve been needing.

“Lay with me, please? I need a distraction, I just feel everything and nothing at the same time and it’s too much for me. I feel so stupid it shouldn’t be this hard to do the simplest of things, I’m pathetic” I say letting my emotions run free.

I roll over allowing you to slip into my bed and get comfortable. I waste no time burying myself in your chest as your arms securely hold me letting me know that you’ve got me and I’m okay.

“Shh honey take a deep breath. I know this is hard but you’re not alone okay I’m right here, I’ve got you. It’s not stupid or pathetic to feel this way. Every emotion you’re experiencing is valid whether you have a reason for it or not. Feelings are just visitors, let them come and let them go. This isn’t permanent I promise. Don’t keep this to yourself. I’m in your corner, always” you whisper.

“Thank you Matt. I love you and I’m sorry for not saying anything earlier. Sometimes it just feels easier to let it run it’s course” I say.

“You don’t need to thank me sweetheart. I love you I’m here to help you” you tell me. “I brought you food, your favorite if your hungry”

“You didn’t” I frown, my heart filling with love at this gesture. “You drove all the way there just for that?” I exclaim.

“Of course I did I knew it’d cheer you up. I’d do anything if it meant you were happy, you know that” you say.

“Simply you being here is enough to cheer me up. Thank you for everything” I smiled grateful to have you in my life.

You’re the sunshine in my darkness.

taglist:

@iluvmatt @stxrniqlo @d0wnt0wnstu4n1ol0 @fake-coolbeans @antisocialties

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #readers pov

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months

Note

Aita for bailing mid session when the GM clearly wanted it to focus on my character?

I have a lot of mental health issues, and one of the ways this manifests interacts *fantastically* with fibromyalgia. Essentially I get frequent migraines, anxiety attacks, pain everywhere etc etc. Usually this just means I lie down in the dark for the rest of the day. I've gotten to the point where I can kind of tell when it's coming, and I knew I was going to have an episode soon as I had been having minor symptoms for the past two days.

Well, DND was coming up and I still wanted to play, but I really wasn't feeling mentally capable at the time. A little bit before the session started (immediately after I came to the conclusion) I asked my fellow players and the GM to please not interact with my character heavily, at least for a little while, so that I could test the waters and allow my brain to sink in to ttrpg mode. This isn't an unusual request from me, and all of the other players have experienced me asking this before. I haven't been friends with the GM as long though, and I realize that she probably isn't fully aware of the condition I'm in on bad days. I also wasn't aware that the GM had planned for my character to be kind of the center of attention for the first part of the session, but it's not like I can schedule my episodes.

Well the session opens with my characters family trying to come along on the journey in order to 'protect' my character (despite the fact that they're severely injured, one of the two are literally missing a leg now). In character and out of character, I wouldn't want them to come with, and I said so when the GM asked through roleplay. I thought it would be as simple as that, but she kept pushing. The GM kept advocating for the family to tag along and kind of arguing with my character. I was really annoyed at this point because I had JUST asked to not be engaged with heavily. I tried to shirk off the debate to my fellow players, but the GM kept asking for my opinion specifically. I could feel my brain shutting down, so despite not wanting the family to come along I just rolled with it, not being up to a debate and not wanting to start an argument mid session.

We move on, stuff happens, and we enter combat. For some reason the GM was using minutes to measure distance instead of feet. As in, it would take you 10 minutes to reach this destination. Your enemies are 15 minutes away, etc. Except, we had rolled initiative. Meaning every turn was 6 seconds, so 10 minutes is like 600 rounds or something. Plus, the measurements she was giving us were inconsistent. They'd be in range of my 30ft spell, but they were also 10 minutes away? Point is, I was super confused, and trying to convert the measurements and figuring out what the hell was happening started triggering a breakdown. My head was pounding my heart was beating out of my chest everything was spinning and so I said I needed to leave. I ended up just going to lie on the floor for a long while and let them finish the session without me.

But I feel really bad about it. I feel like I should have warned the GM sooner, or maybe been more clear about what I deal with? She made a comment later that day about how "the session was supposed to go a specific way, but (I) wasn't up to anything and completely changed it." It really made me feel like she was blaming me for feeling unwell, like I just ruined her session. But I also feel like I wouldn't have had an episode had she just respected my wishes in the first place and not pushed me on something I wasn't up to engage in. Idk

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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chvnnie · 2 years

Text

Dream

han jisung x reader

word count: 2.9k

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, smut - MINORS DNI

warnings: reader is anxious (but there is no use of the word "anxiety") so mentions/descriptions of anxiety, pet names: sprout/squish, baby, breast/nipple play, a teeny bit of dirty talk, unprotected sex (don't do that), slight breeding kink? kinda?, they are in looooovvvveeee, just a bunch of fluff/making love. if i missed anything, PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

summary: the world has been against you lately, but jisung will always be there to keep you safe.

a/n: sorry for being so MIA lately - this fic is a perfect representation of how i've been feeling lately, and why i've been kinda silent. hopefully this feeling will pass soon, and i can write more content for you guys. pls enjoy, sorry for being an anxious mess lately <3

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents han jisung as a person or stray kids as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

taglist: @lix-ables, @rachalixie, @agustd-essert, @gibbysupremeacyisreal, @katieraven, @miamormi, @woahfruity, @isilentprincess, @hugs4chan, @stranger-thighs, @beautifulcolorgarden, @scottmcallisdaddy - PLEASE COMMENT OR SEND ASK TO BE ADDED TO MY PERMANENT TAGLIST

It’s been a long, long day.

Anything that could have gone wrong today, did go wrong. You dropped your toothbrush in the toilet, you burnt your breakfast, your makeup smudged the second you put it on. Everything was awful, and that’s not even an exaggeration. Today has been terrible for you.

It was never ending, this string of bad luck you hit. Stuck in traffic for fifty minutes (seriously, what the fuck was that about?), then the grocery store was sold out of grapes. The cherry on top was stepping in gum, stuck to the hot pavement, in a brand new pair of white shoes.

Respectfully, today could go fuck itself.

The excursion to the store and back was enough trauma for the day. After unloading the groceries, you retreated to the bedroom, stripping out of your outside clothes in favor of something cozier. One of your boyfriend’s oversized hoodies and leggings sounded like the best outfit to wear to your pity party.

Pulling the hood over your head, you tugged on the strings, hiding all of your facial features (minus your nose). You curled up on top of the made bed, clicking through multiple streaming services until you found something comforting to watch.

You needed this. Fuck, after today, you deserved this.

Midway through an episode of some silly sitcom, your phone buzzed. Through the teeny hole in the scrunched hoodie, you checked it to find a message from Jisung.

Ji: [03:45] hiiiii baby. just wanted to let you know i’m going to be a little late tonight — we’re having a bit of a crisis in the studio and i don’t think i’ll get to slip away at my normal time. pls don’t wait on me for dinner. love you bunches, sprout.

The universe really said fuck you today, huh?

It really wasn’t that big of a deal, Jisung often stays late to work on things. You knew that late nights and early mornings were a part of his job when you started dating, and had always accepted it. Jisung loves his job, and you’ll never not support him as he chases his dreams.

But that was a blow. You had begun counting down the hours the moment your toothbrush hit the toilet bowl. You needed to be wrapped in his arms more than anything right now, and to know you won’t be getting that anytime soon-

The floodgates opened, a steady stream of hot tears rolling down your face. God, this was silly, wasn’t it? To be so mopey about Jisung working late, as if this isn’t a common occurrence. There’s no reason for you to be acting this way, to be so upset that you can barely think.

It’s just been a really bad day.

Shaky hands picked up your phone, eyes blurred as you typed out a response.

You: [04:05] ok! please make sure to eat and hydrate. love you bunches, squish, see you later.

You slid your phone across the bed, wanting it as far away from you as it could get. Your body felt heavy, chest tight as new tears welled up in your eyes. It felt silly, and even though it’s not, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that you were overreacting. He always works late, why is it the end of the world today?

Because it’s been a really bad day. Because a bunch of minor inconveniences have built up into something bigger, and his text was the trigger. The breaking point. The point of no return.

You’re not sure how long you laid there crying, unable to bring yourself out the ball you’ve curled yourself in. The show you were watching had stopped, and your hands had grown cold from lack of use.

Painfully, you unfurled yourself, pulling the hood off your head. The once golden room was now shades of orange; the early sunset flooding through your thin curtains. It felt cozy, almost comforting to see the walls painted with new hues, rays of pink intertwined with the orange.

It almost made you forget why you were so upset in the first place, like the day was repaying you for treating you like shit with a beauty so breathtaking it eased your soul.

You pulled yourself out of bed, slowly dragging yourself into the kitchen. Body sluggish, you began to sort the ingredients for tonight’s dinner. The meal plan reminded you that it was one of Jisung’s favorite dishes, a little heart at the end of sentence. A reminder to make extra for him.

Suddenly, your face was hot again, eyes blurring as fresh tears began to spill. Fuck, again? But you were just fine? Were you not just smiling, humming as you started to prep the ingredients? Why did it hit you out of the blue? Why won’t this feeling go away?

You didn’t even bother reshelving the food, leaving everything behind as you retreated back to the bedroom. This time you curled under the blankets, pulling them up and over your head. If you could just block out the world, maybe the hurt would cease to exist. Maybe the overwhelming waves that threatened to drag you down would calm.

Maybe you could pretend today never even happened if you just forgot the world around you existed.

Grabbing Jisung’s pillow, you brought it to your chest, hugging it tightly. Your nails dug into the cotton pillowcase, determined to keep it as close to you as possible. It smelled like him, like his cocoa butter lotion and the woodsy shampoo he loves. Willing yourself to breathe, you inhaled the familiar scents, letting them ease the pressure.

He would be home soon. It would all be okay.

Your nose burned as you sniffled, the sound so loud you didn’t even hear the bedroom door open. In fact, you were completely unaware that you were no longer alone until the comforter was pulled back.

“Baby?” Your boyfriend’s voice was soft, laced with concern and confusion. “Are you alright?”

That’s when your light tears became a full sob, chest burning as you let out every ounce of pain you’ve felt today. You shook your head, squeezing the pillow against your chest until you felt like it had become an extra limb.

Jisung was under the covers, right next to you in less than thirty seconds. Still fully dressed, he grabs your shell of a body, tugging you into his chest. One hand wrapped around your center, the other cradles your head, keeping you close enough to hear his heartbeat. “Shh, baby. I’ve got you.”

In his hold, you let everything go. Every bit of frustration and pain you’ve felt today, flowing out in the form of salty tears and hiccups. They rolled off your face and onto his leather jacket, soaking the spot where your head laid limp. Jisung said nothing, simply threading his fingers through your hair and softly brushing the tangles you’ve acquired throughout the day.

Eventually, the tears began to slow, your breaths evening out. Tension began to ease, shoulders relaxing as the pain of the day started to become unreachable.

Only once you stopped crying did Jisung speak up. “Do you want to talk about it?”

With a sniffle, you pulled the pillow out from between your bodies and nuzzled into his chest, letting yourself feel his body heat completely. You recounted your day, sharing every detail of your awful day with your boyfriend.

“It’s silly.” You mumble against his chest, bringing your sweater paws up to wipe your eyes. “It wasn’t like anything big happened-“

“Nothing you ever feel is silly.” Jisung responses, grabbing your wrist to move your hands out of your face. “A lot of shit happened today. It makes sense that you were upset, and you’re valid in those feelings.”

Looking up, you meet his eyes for the first time this evening. Partially hidden behind his dark hair, his starry eyes stared down at you. The love in them was overwhelming, a warm sensation washing over you as you took them in. Looking at him, seeing all the universes he held within his eyes, always made you feel lighter, made you feel safe.

“Thank you.” You whisper, moving your hands so they intertwine with his.

“You don’t have to thank me.” Bringing your hands to his lips, he kissed the back of them, lips warming your cool skin. “But I do have one question. Why didn’t you call me?”

The question made you pause - wasn’t it obvious? “You said there was a crisis, I didn’t want to pull you away from work-“

��There was, but it wasn’t more important than you.”

“Ji-“

“I’m serious. You’re my priority.”

“But, it’s your dream-“

“No. It’s a career. You’re my dream, Sprout.”

Your eyes stung, but you didn’t have time to focus on that. Not when your hands were moving to his face, lovingly cupping it as you pulled it down to meet yours. Lips crashing against each other, you kissed your boyfriend with such an intensity, your head began to spin. You couldn’t help it - not when he was here, loving you in ways you never dreamt of.

Jisung hummed against your lips, wrapping his arms around your waist. His lips parted, letting your tongue work its way inside his mouth. The taste of him was mind numbing, washing you clean of every last doubt or worry you were holding onto.

Lazily, Jisung rolled the two of you until he was on his back, keeping you flush against him. Tongues dancing together, you let yourself fall deeper into the kiss, craving his taste like you needed it to breathe.

His hands find your hair, gently pulling you off his lips. “I love you.” He mumbles, scratching your scalp soothingly. “Bunches. Forever.”

Smiling, you lower back down, pecking his swollen lips. “I love you, bunches. Forever.” Kisses trailed onto his jawline, featherlight and pulling low groans from his throat. “Thank you for being mine.”

A peaceful silence falls over you two as Jisung submits to your kisses, hands moving down to your shoulders and further, finding home on your hips. As he slips both hands under your hoodie, you move to his neck, goosebumps breaking out under your lips.

Planting your hands on the bed, you push yourself up, bringing your legs to straddle his hips. The orange hues were now more of a purple, highlighting your lover’s face beautifully. His lips were plump, aching for more of your touch, eyes soft and hooded. He looked divine; a sinful heaven at your fingertips.

God, and he thought you were a dream?

The hands under your hoodie inched higher, resting on your upper ribs. His thumbs teased the underside of your breasts, rubbing firm circles. “You look so good in my clothes.” His voice is raspy, the need dripping from his words. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

You felt your face flush, warm flooding your body and making your lower belly tingle. Moving your hands to his chest, you pushed the leather jacket off, Jisung squirming to throw it off the bed. When gone, a hand creeps to his neck, thumb playing with his bottom lip.

Jisung pulls your thumb in, suckling lightly on the tip. He kept eye contact with you, his hands moving until they cupped your breasts fully. Rolling your head back, you arched into his touch, lost in the way he massaged you. When his thumbs pressed on your nipples, you groaned, free hand gripping his shirt.

He chuckles, thumb falling from his lips. “So sensitive, Sprout. Do you like the way it feels?”

You whimper out a confirmation, pulling at his shirt needily. Holding onto you for support, Jisung sits up, letting you rid him of his shirt. Your hoodie follows, and Jisung wastes no time cupping your breasts again, peppering kisses across the swell of them. His hands are so warm, lips so plush against your soft skin that it makes you dizzy.

The purple rays begin to fade into black, the bedroom growing darker as you begin to pull Jisung’s belt off. His lips have moved to your nipples, alternating between kissing and sucking the bud, occasionally using his teeth to hear your pretty whimpers. Once his belt is off, he lifts his hips, letting you shed him of his jeans and underwear. His heavy cock springs up, hitting his lower abdomen. One hand wraps around the base, reveling in the way he hissed at the contact, while the other works on pulling off your bottoms.

It’s not long before you’re both bare, bodies melding into one. His skin against yours is exhilarating, body erupting in pleasure just from that feeling alone. Cupping his face, you pull him off your chest, needing to feel his lips on yours again. It’s a loving touch, one that makes you feel like you’re floating on a cloud.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call.” You whisper so softly, as if the words would break the passion between you.

His hands match yours, clearing your face of any hair that clung to it. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you needed me.”

You smile, seeking the caress of his lips again. Trailing your fingers down, you slide a hand between your bodies, finding his member. Jisung moans against your lips as you maneuver it, positioning it at your entrance.

Gasping into the kiss, you slide down, letting him consume you. The stretch is something you’ll never get used to, but something you’ll always crave. He fits so perfectly inside of you, filling you to the brim and hitting every spot he needs to. Once fully sheathed, you pause, taking a second to deepen the kisses.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” You begin to lift your hips, his full moans echoing off the bedroom walls. “You’re here now.”

The rhythm you set is slow, but deep, letting both you and Jisung savor the pleasure that you give each other. Nothing in the world - not a bad day, not a studio crisis, not any inconvenience - matters when Jisung is around. When you get to love each other on an otherworldly level, expressing it in the purest way.

His hands grip your hips, assisting you in your motions. The pace picks up a tad, keeping the depth but helping the two of you chase your edges. Whimpering, you break the kiss, head resting on his shoulder as you let Jisung take control.

His heart is pounding against your chest, breath heavy as he starts to kiss your shoulder. “My everything.” He mumbles, groaning between words. “Nothing is more important than this. Nothing is more important than - fuck - you.”

The words are sweet, filling you with a yearning so overwhelming, you never think you’ll recover from it. You never want to recover from it. They help move you along, help your legs begin to tremble and core begin to tighten. When your walls restrict, your lover’s moans deepen, his hips beginning to thrust up.

“Cum with me.” You whine, lifting your head up.

Jisung’s dark eyes meet yours, words failing to fall from his lips as he moves a hand in between your centers. Resting his hand on our mound, his thumb reaches down, drawing what feels like hearts against your clit. It’s just what you need - eyes rolling back as you feel your release rushing to the surface.

It only takes a few more thrusts from the dam to break, your orgasm hard and plentiful. Your vision gets fuzzy as it goes on and on, feeling like it’s never ending. In the middle of your high, Jisung reaches his. It’s just as hard, just as filling as he spills inside of you. Neither of you stop your motions until you’re sure the other has emptied out.

The room is pitch black now, the sun finally set on the longest day. Jisung falls limp against you, breaths heavy as he pants on your shoulder. You can barely keep yourself up, eyes heavy and body aching. If it weren’t for his nails digging into your hips, you’re sure you would’ve collapsed just as he had.

You wrap your arms around Jisung, tilting to the side and making you both crash onto the mattress. He grunts at the impact, a fit of giggles spilling from you.

“Don’t laugh at me.” He half groans, half whines, nuzzling deeper into your neck. “My body is exhausted.”

“It was just cute.” You whisper, rubbing his back soothingly. Neither of you are in a rush to move, content to stay interlocked until the sun decides to rise again.

“Sprout?”

“Squish?”

“You know I’m always here for you, right?” His words are muffled against your neck, but you can still hear the sentiment behind them. “I never want you to feel like I’m not here when you need me. The only place I ever want to be is by your side, so please, please call me next time.”

Tears prick at your eyes, but this time, you don’t feel sad or scared, overwhelmed or worried. Jisung makes you feel a love like no other, a joy that’s never ending. Life with him is like-

“Did you mean it? About me being your dream?”

Jisung pulls his head out of your neck to look at you, a sweet, fond smile painting his face. “I did. You’re like the best, most fulfilling dream I’ve ever had, and I can’t believe I never have to wake up.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #straykidsland #han jisung smut #han smut #jisung smut #han jisung fluff #han fluff #jisung fluff #han jisung tiddie enthusiast

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stxrgaryen · 1 year

Text

The other woman | Jacaerys Velaryon

Summary: In which I shuffle my playlist, spin a wheel and write a one shot for a random character from House of The Dragon.

On todays episode:

Song: The other woman by Lana Del Rey

Character: Jacaerys Velaryon

Warnings: none I think??

Word count: 4.42k

You had never held any wild preconceived notions of love. You knew it to be trying and oftentimes disappointing. Growing up you had watched your father dismiss and neglect your mother, all to pine for a woman that was no longer alive.

You could still hear the arguments that raged between them— the queen insisting that Viserys took no interest in his children, and your father replying that it was nonsense.

Of course he knew it to be the truth, he just did not care enough to change his ways.

He would always offer your mother remorseless apologies the morning following a big argument, gifting her beautiful gowns and expensive jewels. It was how you knew he did not truly love her.

Your father did not care enough to fight for her, to listen to her plights and address her concerns.

No matter how warped your idea of love had begun, you always knew it existed.

Your mother, Queen Alicent, had been the best example. She loved you with all her heart, entertained discussions that never interested her just because she adored the way your face lit up.

Each time you completed a patch of embroidery, she would show it off whenever she held court, urging her ladies to shower you with compliments.

Although it made her head spin with anxiety, she accompanied you to the dragonpit whenever you wished to visit your hatchling. She was present for each milestone you made and every accomplishment you gained.

She taught you that the love between a mother and her children was sacred and you knew in your deepest of hearts that there was no length she would not go to protect you.

You thought the absolute world of your mother. You adored her beautiful dresses and saccharine smiles. You loved how she did her hair and carried herself with such elegance.

Through watching her, you learned to make the best of whatever circumstances were handed to you, no matter how unfavorable you found them to be.

Queen Alicent guarded you like a well kept secret.

You were a child she had always deemed solely hers. Aegon was born for the crown, belonging entirely to the throne he would one day inherit. Helaena was born for him, meant to be the queen by his side. Daeron was for Oldtown, meant to serve as a squire for her uncle Hobart until he came of age.

Aemond would be set up in some kind of political marriage, most likely of a woman set to inherit lands, a match that would require him to leave her. But you— you were hers.

She could raise you as a child of her own and sure, someday you would have to marry but it could be to a minor Lord, perhaps a second son, one that would allow you to stay in the Red Keep.

It had offended Alicent to her very core when Rhaenyra suggested a betrothal between her sweet daughter and the eldest bastard.

And for all your mothers efforts, you adored her for her willingness to protect you and your siblings.

The second kind of love you had learned to cherish was that of your brothers' and sister and although you loved each of your siblings (yes, even Aegon), Aemond had always held a special place in your heart.

It was hard to describe the bond between you. It wasn't romantic, you had never held those kinds of feelings for him, nor he for you, but there was some kind of soul tie between the two of you, allowing you to know each other in ways others simply could not.

You held his hand through the rough days and laughed with him through the good.

Your fondest memories were faking coughs and wiping at a dry noses just so you could curl up with your brother in front of the hearth in your mother's private rooms, your other siblings following shortly after.

"You know—" Alicent had spoken to her children one night, "you don't have to fake an illness just to come visit."

You had smiled so brightly at those words, snuggled happily between Aemond and Helaena, your little brother’s head resting on your lap.

Aegon sat beside Helaena, his shoulder resting against hers as he pretended to hate every second of the interaction.

You always noted how he insisted on joining you despite his claims to hate these nights.

Your mother would sit in her chair, taking turns stroking each of your siblings heads as she called for melted chocolate and read a story for you all.

You had never felt such comfort, never felt so safe.

Growing up, your father was always sick. You could not remember a day where he felt well enough to spend time with you.

At least this is what you remember him claiming.

When your dragon had emerged from its shell, you had been completely breath-taken by her pearlescent silver scales. You marveled at how the sun reflected off them.

You named her Meraxes, after princess Rhaenys' mount.

You had gone bounding up the keep's steps, racing to your father's room to tell him of your new dragon.

You had thought that he could tell you tales of the conqueror. That he would possibly even speak of Balerion and what it was like to mount him.

Barely containing your excitement, you reached for the handle of his door, smile already plastered across your face. As the door pushed open you stopped dead in your tracks.

Viserys sat in his chair, smiling at Jacaerys and Lucerys, pointing to different parts of his model of the Valyrian Freehold. He spoke High Valyrian, slowing the ancient words so his grandsons could catch each syllable

It was something ugly that festered in you at the sight.

He had never smiled at you like that. Had never taken the time to show you or your siblings the thing he seemed to love more than them. He didn't teach you histories or the ancient language of Valyria.

Your father looked at you and his smile dropped just the slightest, before widening again. Although this time, it did not reach his eyes. Yours dropped completely, your breath coming out rushed and labored as your fists clenched at your side.

"Kepa." You greeted, making a point of pronouncing the word flawlessly.

Viserys nodded, "y/n"

An awkward silence hung in the air as the king and his grandsons stared at the disheveled girl. Viserys looked at you expectantly.

"Ñuha zaldrīzes—" you began.

"I don't understand." Lucerys cut you off with a whine.

Your father's true smile appeared as he looked at Luke and you felt tears cloud your vision.

"My dragon hatched." You whispered, every bit of excitement you once held now dead and gone.

"That is very good news." Viserys said indulgently. "Have you told your mother yet?"

You shook your head no.

"Then perhaps you should go tell her." You could remember your father saying, attempting to disguise his dismissal.

You said nothing as you slammed the door and ran to your mother's chambers.

When your siblings had visited you later that night, with honey cakes and hot tea, you knew that with them, you were always loved.

They cheered you up to the best of their abilities, spouting nonsense and exaggerated stories, all in the name of seeing you smile.

The third and final kind of love that you had learned to cherish over your few short years of life, was the kind shared between friends.

It was hard for you to believe that even now, Jacaerys had ever felt anything towards you other than contempt.

He had always been a child of great temper whereas you were levelheaded, at least in your shared youth.

You were the calm to his storm but never the apple of his eye.

Those were the days in which he was promised to Baela Targaryen.

He would boast over her beauty and bravery like they were prizes he had won. You never minded, you were happy that your closest friend would one day marry someone he cared for.

Your earliest memories are with him as you sat under the weirwood tree, arms intertwined as you picked candy lemons off honey cakes.

There was one day in particular where you had stolen the tray from the banquet table somewhere between the fifth and sixth hour of a feast, you had taken Jace by the sleeve, pulling him outside as you both began tearing the poor cakes apart.

King Viserys often threw revelries and just like all those before, he had drunk too much arbored gold.

On that day he had done just that— drank far more than his fair share and slurred some nonsense when he saw Rhaenyra, expressing how proud he was of his 'only child'.

You felt his words like a punch to the gut. There wasn’t a single thing in this world you wouldn’t give up to hear Viserys speak of you like that.

You had only been grateful your mother and siblings weren't around to hear it. It had been senselessly cruel, but it was your burden to shoulder.

You had only hoped his guard had ushered him to bed after.

"I do not understand why he doesn't like me." You admitted to Jace with a sigh. "I am just as much his child as Rhaenyra is."

Jacaerys turned to you, studying your sullen face as you picked off another candied lemon and popped it into your mouth. "Your father is a fool."

You turned to him with raised eyebrows. Swallowing the candied lemon, you placed the tray on the ground and sat up straight. "You just insulted the king."

Jace shrugged, picking up a honey cake and taking a bite, "just because he's the king doesn't mean he's not a fool."

"I thought you adored Viserys." You asked in confusion.

"You're my friend and he was mean to you." Jace shrugged again. When you didn't look convinced he continued, "your smart y/n. Like really smart. You know almost every part of Westeros, know almost every person that passes through court. You're kind to everyone, and good at everything."

Jacaerys shook his head, "and anyone who can not see that is a fool, including the king."

You beamed at his words. "Do you mean it?"

"Of course I do. You're my best girl." Jace beamed back. "One day I'll even make you hand of the king!"

You laid down, head resting against a root at you watched the red leaves sway gently in the breeze. Jacaerys settled next to you, laying his head directly next to yours.

"You're my best friend too." You whispered, not turning to see the way he smiled at the sky, eyes closed in contentment.

─────────── ☙ ───────────

The rift in your friendship began with the pink dread.

Above all, you cherished your siblings. You hated to see any of them upset and when it came to Aemond and his lack of a dragon, you knew just how much that singular problem effected him.

You had been in the dragonpit with them, learning to command Meraxes, as your brother and nephew did with their respective dragons.

As always, Aemond insisted on joining although he did not posses his own mount.

It was a kind of self-inflicted torture you could never quite understand but, your brother's determination was admirable, even if he hurt his own feelings in the process.

But of course, Aegon saw this same determination and wielded it as a weapon against him. Harsh jibes and terrible words were the least of your concern.

You stuck by your brother's side through it all, stuck up for him when permitted.

Today you had seen Aegon's cruel joke coming from a mile away.

Your face went red with anger as Jace and Aegon introduced the pink dread, little Lucerys running to find a pig with wings fastened to its back.

As your eldest brother and nephews left the dragonpit, you chased after them. Demanding answers for a brother who would not.

"Jacaerys!" You had yelled. You couldn't take your anger out on Aegon, although you knew it was deserved.

Your friend turned to you as Aegon and Lucerys continued to walk away.

"How could you?" You asked, voice trembling with anger.

"We're no longer the subjects of Aegon's torment." Jace said simply.

You had known this was true. Aegon had tortured Jace and Luke from the moment they learned to walk.

Now that he had a new target, her nephews were relieved with the reprieve. An argument ensued. You, insisting Jacaerys and his brother must leave Aemond alone, and him arguing that he couldn’t.

"If you continue, I'll tell the king!" You threatened, with all the resolution and determination of a hardened warrior.

"And which of us holds the king's favor?" Jacaerys asked cruelly.

You flinched at his words, face growing pale.

"Your father hardly tolerates you." Jacaerys hissed, his words aiming to cut. "He adores Luke and I."

You had run to your mother with tears in your eyes, hiccuping through broken sobs at you buried yourself in the soft fabric of her dress. She ran a comforting hand over your soft silver curls, whispering assurances you knew were false.

"Your father loves you." Queen Alicent had sworn, her voice cracking .

You knew it was a lie just as she did. Maybe Viserys did care for you in some capacity, but if he did he had never shown it.

The next day your mother had marched you down to Princess Rhaenyra's solar, demanding answers for her son's harsh words, neglecting the fact that her own child had said and done far worse things to the princess' children.

It seemed that single argument was the beginning of the end for you and Jace.

Later, he had brought you a sweet cake with a terribly written apology on a crumbled piece of parchment tucked beneath the plate.

You forgave him, as you did with everyone who wronged you in any way. It was always in your nature to forgive, no matter how badly words could sting, you valued relationships too much to push people away over mistakes they made.

Or you did at least.

─────────── ☙ ───────────

After that, spats always seemed to occur between the two of you. Some were serious but most were not.

It wasn't until Laena Velaryon's funeral that Jacaerys began to truly resent you.

In the midst of another disagreement, he was refusing to speak to you.

Distraught over the death of Ser Harwin and overtaken with anger at the world, Jace avoided each of your attempts to reach out.

So you gave up, instead choosing to spend the day with Aemond.

As far as funerals went, Lady Laena's had been beautiful.

You offered her daughter's your condolences and whispered assurances that meant nothing to them. They took took your hands in theirs, thanking you with sad but grateful smiles.

You remember your father calling you over, hand resting on your shoulder as he spoke to noblemen.

Aemond came to your side without you even having to ask, silently taking your hand as you listened to the utter nonsense coming from your father's mouth.

It was was the moment after your father had told Aemond he could claim a hatchling or dragon egg, that you knew the day would not end well.

Viserys never took into account how his children felt. Never once considered how he made them feel.

He only praised you in the company of others, only ever looked at you when you stood beside your eldest sister.

You had grown used to you father's aversion towards you and your siblings.

It made you lot all the closer, bonding over a neglectful father and a mother who tried desperately to overcompensate for that same father's neglect.

You tried not to let it bother you. How your father invited your nephews into his private chambers, sharing tales of Old Valyria and their family heritage. They never cared for it but, you did.

You tried not to think of how unfair it was because if you did you would never be free to think of anything else.

You watched as your father humiliated Aemond for what seemed like the millionth time in your known memory. You followed him as he ran from the great hall, wiped the tears from his cheeks once he stopped on the shores of High Tide's beach.

When some time had passed and your brother looked up with hardened resolution, you knew he had a plan.

To claim Vhagar, he whispered, would be to claim the world.

You agreed without a second thought.

Not thinking of the dragon's rider who had been sent to the sea not even a day prior.

You didn't think of the daughter's she left behind or the friend who was betrothed to one of those same daughters.

You only thought of your brother and the shared humiliation your father had forced you to bare your entire childhood.

So you agreed to help him. Not considering the consequences of this decision.

In the dead of night you set off with Aemond, determined to help him claim a dragon.

You had made your way to the outer yard, saddling Meraxes as you took to the skies— guiding Aemond who ran below, to the sleeping Vhagar.

You watched with bated breath as he approached her.

Felt anxiety when you saw her maw open and relief when Aemond had gotten her to calm.

As he took his first flight, you flew beside him. You had smiled so wide your cheeks hurt, cheered so loud that your throat ached.

When you landed you gave him the grandest of hugs, boasting how proud you were of him all the way until you reached the keep.

Where they waited.

It all happened so quickly.

You barely processed the insults the slipped past your brother's lips, barely had time to think as Baela surged forward and struck Aemond with a closed fist.

You tried to stop it. Tried to command them with a shaky voice to calm down. But they did not listen.

Before you could blink, your hands were pulling Lucerys back by the collar of his shirt— just after his blade had taken Aemond's eye.

You couldn't think, could not breathe as you watched Aemond writhing on the ground.

A fury you had never quite felt before rose in your gut, tears flowing as you struggled to find the words to express your anger, your horror.

Jace's eyes met yours. His face went pale and eyes wide.

"You bastards will burn for this." You promised, rushing to your brothers aid.

What happened next was only salt in an already gaping wound.

You refused to tear your gaze away from your brother as the Maester carved out his eye.

You could do nothing but watch as your mother struggled with her grief. She tried to bring justice to her children, tried to make it right.

Blame was thrown back and forth between each party.

The king was having none of it, insisting you were a family, that you ought to love one another.

It wasn't until Rhaenyra spoke up, at the behest of her sons, that the king finally began to listen.

Jace spoke next, your own words thrown back at you as your brother was being stitched whole in the seat beside you.

"Y/n and Aemond must be sharply questioned," Rhaenyra deflected "so we might learn where they heard such slanders."

Your back had gone rigid, your expression contorting into one of hurt. You watched as your mother struggled to defend you and Aemond and as your father ignored her entirely, just as he always did.

You felt helpless as you watched your desperate mother lunge for the heir, Valyrian steel dagger in her hands, seeking justice for her children when no one else would.

You understood it then. Why your mother was always so desperate to keep you away from Rhaenyra and her sons’. They did not have your best interests at heart.

They had harmed your brother and faced no consequences. What would happen when Rhaenyra ascended the throne?

The two women broke apart, breaths ragged and tears in their eyes.

Aemond rose from his chair, hugging his mother as he deemed the exchange fair, although you knew it was only in an attempt to calm her.

The silence was deafening as the opposing sides of house Targaryen began staring incredulously at one another.

"This matter is at an end!" your father's voice boomed as your mother dropped the dagger, blood now dripping from its blade. "Now make your apologies and exchange vows of good will."

When no one moved, the king spoke again.

"If you refuse to make this family whole— then I will." He rasped. Viserys pointed his cane toward you, "By royal decree, Jacaerys Velaryon and Y/n Targaryen are now formally betrothed."

Your mother's head turned with so much force, you had thought her neck would snap.

Viserys's eyes narrowed, "House Targaryen must be unified and with this marriage, it shall be."

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your nails leaving crescent shaped indents in your palms.

You looked at your mother in horror who only shook her head in return, closing her eyes as tears cascaded down her cheeks.

Rhaenyra nodded in agreement but spoke solemnly, "A fine match, Your Grace."

Nothing could have prepared you for how disastrous your marriage would be.

─────────── ☙ ───────────

In the years following Driftmark, you grew into a beautiful young woman, with pale lilac eyes and shimmering silver hair.

You were everything expected of a Targaryen princess.

Your smile still shone bright as bright as a star in the night sky. You had maintained your kindness and your incredible ability to forgive.

"More beautiful than Rhaenyra ever was at your age." A lord at court had declared.

The compliments pleased your mother beyond belief, she had always been so proud of you and the appraisal of her court’s members only furthered her sentiments.

You had grown into a well-rounded young lady. You were more than talented with the high harp and possessed embroidery skills that were near to perfection. Your charisma and charm was nearly unmatched, drawing in anyone who dared to come close.

The entire realm looked forward to the day you were crowned Queen Consort.

You had found happiness in your life, with your siblings and the people around you.

But while the years had made you all the merrier, there was a constant storm cloud just over the horizon, threatening to upend your life and thrust you into the unknown.

You had not forgotten your betrothed or the terrible way things had been left between you.

Still, you looked to you marriage with hope. You thought that perhaps maybe, you could perhaps reestablish the friendship that was once there, if not pursue a romantic relationship.

On the days leading up to your wedding celebrations, you had spent hours pouring over every minute detail.

You arranged the dragon's breath lining down the center of each banquet table. You spent hours upon hours with the palace's head chef, deciding which wine would pair best with each course.

You made sure that the sigils of both houses, Targaryen and Velaryon, were displayed throughout the castle.

You arranged for singers and harpists to fill the halls with beautiful melodies throughout the week.

There was not a single detail you overlooked, nothing seemed too small in your eyes.

When it came time for your betrothed to arrive with his family, you wore your best dress and had your handmaidens braid your long silver hair into an intricate updo. You wore your mother's emerald earrings and matching necklace, the jewels complimenting the colored fabric of your gown.

You waited with your parents and sister for their arrival, your brothers both refused to welcome them, but this did not shock you.

Jaehaera and Jaehaerys clung to Helaena’s skirts, occasionally venturing far enough from her to speak with you.

Your nerves ate away at you until your hands shook, so instead you clasped them together before you.

As the black and red wheelhouse rolled into the court yard, you attempted your best at a welcoming smile.

Princess Rhaenyra emerged first, a guard helping her to her feet.

She crossed over swiftly, greeting your father then the queen. She turned to you with a too sweet smile, remarking on how beautiful your emerald dress was. You thanked her, eagerly turning back to watch the others come out.

Prince Daemon was next, holding one of their younger children in his arms. The child's nursemaid was quick to scoop the young prince from him, shushing the babe as he cried for his father.

He did the same as Rhaenyra, greeting his brother and then his good sister.

He spoke a soft hello to Helaena, her children, and then to you.

You noticed the cautious look in his eyes as he took you in. You did all you could not to cower from his gaze.

By the time you looked back, Jacaerys had already been standing on the ground, a hand outstretched to help someone else down the steps of the wheelhouse.

You watched as a tanned hand met with his, one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen emerging shortly after. Her hair fell in silver ringlets down to her waist, her dress a beautiful shade of sea green.

You felt your chest tighten as you realized who it was, Baela Targaryen.

You felt a small hand grip your own, looking down to find your niece, Jaehaera looking up at you with wide violet eyes. You sent her a comforting smile, running a soft hand along her cheek.

Looking back up you saw Jacaerys approach, Baela's arm intertwined through his own.

You tried not to stare, tried to keep a smile on your face but had found it difficult.

They're friends , you reminded yourself, siblings.

You tried to ignore the way he looked at her, how Baela returned that look.

You didn't want to believe it, did not want to admit you had no chance at a peaceful life.

Jacaerys offered you a tight lipped smile, nodding once before moving to greet his grandfather.

You hated how it made you feel. Hated that he overlooked you after you had spent so much of your time thinking of him, of the life you would share together.

It will get better, you assured, We haven't spoken in years. Jacaerys will warm to me eventually.

So you painted a pretty smile on your face, ignoring the nagging feeling that all would not be well.

You led your guests into the palace, seeing to it that each were settled in their chambers before you went to find your brothers.

On the eve of your wedding, you paced in your mother's room, nails bitten down to the beds.

All week you had tried to connect with Jacaerys only for him to avoid your efforts entirely.

Jacaerys had never wanted to marry you. You knew this in your heart of hearts.

He never treated you poorly but the slights were constant.

He would leave you mid conversation to go to Baela or at dinners he'd choose the seat beside hers instead of the one next to you. He avoided your affection and cast you aside with every given chance, dismissing your very existence as if your presence offended him.

You faced it all with a stiff lip, never taking his rejections as a sign to stop reaching out your hand.

You wanted the relationship with your husband to better than your parents had been, wanted to make it better for the children you would one day share but as the week continued, it was clear that some things were simply out of your control.

"He doesn't love me." You stressed to your mother, your nightdress trailing behind you as you paced.

"These things take time, my dear." She tried to calm you. "Not all great loves can begin over night."

You still had yet to accept it, that you had a feeling that with Jacaerys, there was no great love in your future.

You tried your best to smile, to convince both yourself and your mother that you believed her words would hold true.

But the truth was, you were just another woman of House Targaryen destined for tragedy.

The ceremony had gone and passed with no issue. You were joined as man and wife in the eyes of the gods. A Valyrian ceremony would follow as soon as you arrived on Dragonstone.

At your wedding feast, you sat and laughed at the high table, genuinely happy with the day’s events.

Jacaerys smiled politely, picking at his food and barely acknowledging his new wife.

Members from both sides gave toasts, wishing the new couple all the happiness in the world.

“May you find as much love and contentment as I did with my Aemma.” Viserys had spoken, caring not for how his current wife would take the jab.

When it came time for the first dance, Jacaerys stood from his seat.

He pushed his chair out and rounded it, making sure to tuck it neatly under the table.

You smiled at him, butterflies in your stomach.

Your husband truly was a handsome man.

There certainly were worse options and as of this moment, you had believed yourself to be lucky.

But he did not return your hopeful look.

He barely glanced at you as he walked passed, down the length of the table to where Baela Targaryen sat.

Jacaerys outstretched a hand as the entire room burst out into hushed whispers.

You felt every butterfly that had come to life, die within seconds.

Rhaenyra sprang from her seat, only to be dragged back down by Daemon.

Aemond stood too, looking absolutely murderous as Jacaerys led Baela to the dance floor.

Your mother voiced her outrage, even Aegon stood, joining Aemond as they muttered to one another.

You felt trapped, completely unable to move as Jacaerys twirled Baela around.

This was when you had accepted your fate.

Like mother like daughter, they would whisper for years after.

You were a woman cursed to live in the shadow of another.

You may have been his wife, but you would always be the other woman.

#house of the dragon #jacaerys x you #jacaerys angst #game of thrones #hotd #jacaerys velaryon #aemond targaryen #house targaryen #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen

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snitchesnsneeds · 1 month

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After too much stalling, I finally finished the other half of Miraculous Season 2. Here's my thoughts episode-by-episode:

Zombizou: The episode focused on Ms. Bustier. Honestly I get where she's coming from in that statement to Marinette. This is a world where people can become butt-ugly abominations because they felt upset, although I think Chloe still needs consequences for her actions as well as something like positive reinforcement. She had plenty consequences in season 1. Speaking of Chloe, That Asshole was wrong. There was clear intent for Chloedemption. Also could we at least have seen all that stuff Ms. Bustier does in previous episodes?

Syren: This was an episode the salters talked loads about, and honestly, I get where Adrien's coming from here. On a fundamental level the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculi aren't equals due to the Ladybug's magic reset button, but as one of the first Miraculous users, Adrien should've still been let in on the loop. Kid felt like he was useless, that Ladybug could save the day without his help. At the very least have Master Fu go one-on-one or have both kids show up while transformed or blindfolded. Also the water voices ticked me off, but that's relatively minor.

Frightningale: A fun character-of-the-week episode, especially since I'm fond of Clara Nightingale's constant rhymes and rhythm. She's dedicated to it and I love it. It's also good to see Chloe be an exceptional and talented dancer! It's good to see her having talents and interests that aren't just making people suffer!

Troublemaker: Another episode showing why I think Marinette and Adrien shouldn't date in any of their forms. I don't know enough about stalker shrines but I think Marinette's room is getting close enough to be one for Adrien. Though I'm pretty sure Adrien's seen worse or has been conditioned to not care, based on his reaction at the end. Still a shame that the local TV show had to live-film Marinette's room and beach her privacy in the local city-town of Paris while the real Paris has been converted to an amusement park for tourists. You got any other reasons why the population is so low? One more thing: I'm pretty sure the lack of ladybug-vision was more due to anxiety over losing one of her earrings and the difficulty of the villain more than anything else.

Anansi: I find the new heroes good, personally. They give more screentime to other characters. Also again with Adrien's insecurity about being useful. And I think this episode would've been over sooner if they noticed that Anansi was going to get herself akumatized over the stress and maybe just let her come or something. Or if they got Marinette to arm-wrestle her instead. Marinette has muscles, right?

Sandboy: A lore episode, mostly. The nightmares were funny for a second and I was a bit annoyed by the Akuma's voice, but that's small potatoes. I like how compared to season 1, where we would be given a bunch of development for Sandboy it's just explained to us afterwards while we instead get more time for lore.

Style Queen: Hawkmoth has a contender for the most evil character in the show. Audrey Bourgeois is the kind of person that would be made fun of in those Karen freakout videos. She cheats on her husband, neglects her daughter to the point of not remembering her name, fires people over the most minor inconveniences, and starts G-rated killing people over getting a seat in the second row. She needs to be cancelled, deplatformed, and Chloe needs a therapist and better role models. I really liked the split-second of Adrien looking shocked after Marinette told him he had the catwalk down, btw. Did he think his identity was outed there?

Queen Wasp: This is why teenagers shouldn't get superpowers. I get secondhand embarrassment watching them. Also Marinette What The Fuck why the Hell are you getting Chloe to bond with the Absolute Worst Person For Her

Maledictator: This is what happens when you make Chloe bond with a Chernobyl-level toxic influence, Marinette. In general this episode was funny, both intentionally and unintentionally. Everyone starts celebrating Chloe ditching Paris with her mother except Adrien because Chloe was her only friend even though she was a detriment to everyone else and suddenly Marinette feels bad because she worships Adrien. The first thing the villain of the week does is make Audrey stop being such a horrible person and later he made Chat Noir reach the limit of catboyness. It's like a Smiling Friends episode. Also it was cool to see Chloe's depths and self-loathing. Surely that won't be forgotten and Chloe will be given therapy so she can become a better person, right?

Reverser (Put here so it makes sense timeline-wise): It's Yaoi time. Except that Nathaniel is into Ladybug (who I assume he knows is Marinette) here and Marc is fine with that. Overall a good episode. Some nice humor, and Reverser's probably the best akuma design so far I love the paper stuff. Plus more info on the side characters and a spot of good humor, excellent!

Frozer: Ah, there's the Nathmarc. And explicit Julerose. And Marinette getting some idea that her fantasy of Adrien is unhealthy and shouldn't be followed. And Adrigami, albeit a bit one-sided. Quit pining over someone who doesn't love you and get with someone who does, kid. And a smidgeon of Marigami. And Adrien's bodyguard being his daddy in place of his father. And a pinch of me seeing what the salters were talking about with the girlsquad and them forcing Marinette and Adrien together. Or at least Alya and Mylene. I couldn't hear what Alix, Juleka, and Rose were saying, but they disagreed, right? At least one of them had to disagree, right?

Heroes' Day Two-Parter: Marinette you're being too hotheaded against Lila no you gotta be like Columbo. Also yet another Marinette Costanza moment. Otherwise not much to say here. It's the boss rush episode, it's the series finale, Alya managed to catch onto Nino being Carapace but still can't seem to connect the dots between Ladybug and Marinette, the Peacock Miraculous is introduced, and Natalie is on my suslist.

I might procrastinate again on the first half of season 3. The first episode deserves a post of it's own. It's the salt episode.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous marinette #adrien agreste #miraculous adrien #ml salt #chloe bourgeois #miraculous chloe #alya cesaire #miraculous alya #miraculous #lukanette #adrigami #nathmarc

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oceansssblue · 4 months

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[THE BAD BATCH]—COMFORTING THE STUDENT series.

HUNTER/GN READER

WARNINGS: DISCUSSIONS OF ANXIETY (WITH VOMITING ISSUES) 💔 AND COMFORTING FLUFF 💖. NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTIONS OF READER.

EVER BEEN STRESSED AS A STUDENT? WELL, JUST IMAGINE IF YOUR BB BOYFRIEND CAME TO THE RESCUE. THAT'S THIS.

You start to feel anxiety seeping into your bones and slowly conquering your body. Your heart beats faster, your breathing pattern changes and increases. The knot in your throat constricts further. Words blurr together in your mind; and you know you need to take a few minutes to yourself and pause. You close the textbook on your datapad, turning the screen off, and close your eyes too. You have to calm down. You still have three days left to study for your first exam of the semester. You've been working for this for months, learning as much as you can; and even if you don't know every single unit of the subject, and you won't in time for your tests, it's alright. You'll do what you can. You always do; and most of the times –with a few minor exceptions– it works alright.

"Cyare?" Hunter's deep voice carefully calls you all the way across the room.

You're studying in the living room-comedor table; while he has been sitting on your sofa and checking his latest mission report for a while.

You open your eyes and look at him; inmediately feeling scanned by his beautiful set of dark coffee-coloured eyes. Hunter is beautiful. He's undoubtedly sexy; and handsome, too. You adore his long hair and sharp jaw line, his tattoos and shoulders. Every inch of his skin; and who he is as a person too. You can't believe you're the lucky girl who gets to call him boyfriend.

"Yeah, love?" You answer, trying to regulate your anxiety still.

You don't want to worry him; but Hunter's inquisitive stare always finds out what you're hiding and it's not an exception this time.

"Are you feeling alright? You in pain?" He asks, trying to figure out what's the deal, frowning slightly in his investigation. "Your breathing pattern and hearbeat have sped up quite a lot in just a handfull of minutes. You've been fidgeting around in your chair more than usual, too. What's wrong? Have you pulled a muscle again?"

You can't help but smile at Hunter's guess. He has helped you through those kind of pains before; always the caring boyfriend. You are hesitant, however, to tell him the truth. You know what people say about anxiety; they think it's a stupid thing, a way of asking for attention, or a simple dramatization. They think you can simply whisk it away; they don't understand it's not just in your head –which already feels like a lot–, but it affects you physically as well.

"It's... It's stress" you end up admitting, just because it's Hunter, and you know he'd never make fun of you. "I have anxiety. It makes it difficult to concentrate and my whole body feels sick sometimes".

Hunter seems to be surprised by the revelation. You realise he's never experienced one of your episodes before. Thankfully, this is a light one. It's a good slow introduction to what you sometimes have to go through.

"How long has this been happening to you?" He asks, gently and cautiously.

You shrug your shoudlers like it doesn't matter –it does–, and look downwards to your datapad.

"Years, now" you answer, quietly. "It used to be so much worse a few years back, though. I had this near pannick attacks and I vomited every single day for like close to a year straight. I... Had a lot of stomach gastritis and such and nearly had to be hospitalised once."

You weren't planning to tell all that; but the words just keep coming. It's something you've never shared with anyone. It was a terrible, scaring moment of your life; you felt like your body was not listening to you, and each breakfeast, lunch and dinner were a total torture. You wanted to eat; you just couldn't.

"That sounds horrible, darling" he answers, his voice soft and full of affection. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. You're better now, though?"

You nodded calmly. Somehow, talking about it has made your current episode subside.

"Yeah. My uh, head doctor, sugested I started taking pills for a few months to help me cope with that, but I refused. I knew my problems would come back when I was done with them and needed to learn how to control it by myself. So I kept trying til I slowly got back to normal, day by day. Nowadays my anxiety attacks are nowhere as strong as back then. My heartbeat and breathing speeds up and my throat closes. I ocasionally feel nausea; but I don't end up vomiting or anything like that. It's just a once in a three months kind of thing now, too. Other than that, I just feel stress as a regular person would."

Hunter nods, satisfied and happy to hear that. You suddenly feel shy after your explanation. Hopefully he understands.

"Good. Is there something I can do for you right now?" he adds, and patiently waits for your answer while you think about it.

Honestly, you just need a break now. You've been studying for hours straight and you need to rest and recharge, if only for a handfull of minutes. And Hunter is the best hugger in the world, so...

"Can we cuddle for a tiny?" you ask, and Hunter smiles like the request has made him happy too.

"Of course, mesh'la" he agrees, gesturing to you with one hand while he readjusts in the sofa. "Get your wonderful ass here".

You can't help but chuckle and you quickly follow him to the sofa, droping your body besides his and wasting no time in finding the perfect spot against him. Hunter opens his arms; let's you find your place. Once you do –head resting on his strong chest and one arm wrapped around his abdomen– he folds himself around you. He hugs you to his body tighter with both hands; head tilting forward and to the side so it rests on top of yours. He gives a small kiss to your hair before letting out a sigh and melting into the embrace.

"We can stay like this as long as you want, cyar'ika" he whispers, softly, caressing your back with one of his hands. "There's no rush".

You humm and nuzzle against him. You'd stay right here forever if you could, with Hunter's arms wrapped around you and his familiar scent tickling your nose. He's home.

THE END.

---------------------

AND THAT'S MY SPIN ON HUNTER FOR THE "COMFORTING THE STUDENT" SERIES"! I FEEL LIKE EACH OF THEM WOULD HAVE A DIFFERENT APROACH AND IT'S FUN WRITING THEIR INDIVIDUAL ONE-SHOTS. TECH WAS THE FIRST ONE ON THE LIST; NOW WE HAVE ECHO, CROSSHAIR AND WRECKER LEFT.

PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES. WHATEVER YOU'RE GOING THROUGH DOESN'T NEED TO BE PERMANENT; YOUR LIFE MOVES ON AND KEEPS CHANGING, AND EVEN IF IT'S SCARY, YOU'LL PUSH THROUGH IT. EACH EPISODE OF YOUR STORY WILL BRING NEW CHALLENGES, UPS AND DOWNS AND THAT'S OKAY. I'M HERE TO TALK IF YOU NEED TO!

LIKE ALWAYS, LET ME KNOW IF YOU'VE LIKED IT AND REBLOGS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED. REQUESTS/PROMPTS OPENED.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT ONE!

Xx,

Sky.

Back to my masterlist here!

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offside-the-lines · 4 months

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tell me who i run to (if not you) | anthony beauvillier | Ep 3. Pal-entine's Day

This is a completed series! Read Full Fic | 🧸 Series Cover Page/Masterlist 🧁 | 🎵 Playlist 🎶 << Previous Episode || Ep 3 || Next Epissode>>

Episode synopsis:Tito returns her kindness by being a shoulder Evie can lean on when she is having a hard time after all-star break. She tells him it’s anxiety about work. He brings her a box of pastries and they cuddle on the couch all day; he doesn’t realize it’s Valentine’s Day. Later, a hook-up goes very wrong.

A/N: You can refer to cover page for the series summary, author's notes, tropes, general warnings and other fun tidbits. This series contains mature themes. Minors DNI. Warnings: This episode contains mentions of a past toxic relationship and sex that occurs off screen. Disclaimer: This series is set in Chicago but does not mention the name of the team.

Word count: 4.8k // 44.5k

Requests (open) | Masterlist & Who I Write For | Join My Taglistist

Pal-entine’s Day

Evie — February 10

It’s late when Evie finishes work for the day. She rubs her eyes and finishes her cup of tea, which is now less than lukewarm. She sighs. This was kind of her own doing. She didn’t work as much as she should’ve in January, especially in the week that Tito stayed over, which means she’s feeling more behind than she would like them to be. Not to mention, this latest work she was editing was full of so many glaring issues that the document has more comments than text at this point.

She puts her phone down and rests her head on the table.

She doesn’t regret it. Tito had been clearly so down in the dumps after his wrist injury. She had taken him to the different museums, touristy sights, and fun restaurants around town that she had been meaning to get to; she had thought that she would catch up on her work when he was in Florida with his brother’s family during Bye Week.

She doesn’t regret it because their adventures brightened his mood every time, his glowing smile seared on the inside of her eyelids. She thinks about the time she had taken him to the Skating Ribbon in Maggie Daley Park on a particularly bad day.

He had come back from the rink dejected after being told he couldn’t join no-contact practice yet. He had been cleared to skate, though. So, the joy on his face when he stepped onto the ice again, even if it was a park and not an NHL arena, made them both feel a hundred pounds lighter.

She doesn’t regret it. It’s just that— Unfortunately, her plan to catch up on work during Bye Week didn't happen. The day after Tito left for Florida, her apartment felt startlingly empty.

It reminded her of when she had first moved to Chicago. She had just a couple of boxes and suitcases. She left behind all the remnants of her life with Pierre. Those plates, pillows, and knickknacks didn’t feel like they belonged in her life anymore. That’s why she moved, right? To get a clean start at age 28.

It wasn’t just stuff she had left behind. It was her whole life, a life that had looked increasingly foreign in those final months anyway. All of their friends, all of their stuff, all of their memories. He could keep them. She just wanted out.

Those first months in Chicago had felt so lonely, living without anyone else for the first time ever. It was hard to make friends in a new city, so she spent a lot of time just in her apartment. The thought kept creeping into her head that she would probably be alone forever and regret leaving her seemingly perfect relationship behind in Toronto.

She downloaded and deleted Bumble probably ten times in the first few months.

Eventually, she met Kelsey, Leanne, and the others at a work-sponsored holiday party. They were unhappy that she hadn’t reached out sooner. So, with them dragging her out of her house a few times a week to whatever restaurant, bar, or event, she eventually settled into life in Chicago. Looking back, she’s not quite sure when her one-bedroom apartment started to feel like home.

That's why she’s so shocked to find herself once again feeling unsettled. Her sleep hasn’t been great either, making her sluggish and heavy. In the week or so since Tito left for Florida, she has only left her house twice. Both of them were to see him play when he returned to the lineup after the All-Star break.

When she looks around her apartment, she can see the small pile of his clothes that sits at the far end of the couch. She had washed them while he was away and folded them so they would be clean when he came back.

That was a week ago.

She’s happy that he’s back at training and back in the line-up. She appreciates the rigorous schedule that he's sticking to to get back to the top of his game.

She understands that means she takes a back seat. It’s just that she wishes a little part of her didn’t resent it or herself for missing his company that she didn’t know she had gotten so used to.

She doesn’t pester him, though, not when he was on vacation and not now that he’s been back training. He still texts her every day, and she tries not to get too excited when he does, being mindful to not be too suffocating and demanding of his time and attention.

She figures it’s probably not a bad idea to realign her priorities: to focus on her work and on the book that she wants to finally finish soon.

Tito — February 14

Tito watches as the sky begins to lighten and decides to just give up on going back to sleep. He reaches over and checks his phone.

5:48 am.

Great.

He unlocks his phone, which opens to the text thread with Evie he had been staring at after the game last night.

Monday, 4:46 pm evie 🧁: sorry, i don’t think i’ll be coming to the game tomorrow. i’m just totally under water with work right now. To evie 🧁: damn, that sucks. i’m sorry. do you want me to come over with some dinner tonight? To evie 🧁: or after the game tomorrow?

He didn’t receive a reply until past midnight that night.

Yesterday, 1:18 am evie 🧁: nah, it’s okay To evie 🧁: good morning to you too. how're you doing? work hasn’t killed you right? i can bring over some lunch. i bet you havent been eating much. Read

He quickly swipes out of his messages and locks his phone again.

He stares out the window. They have only known each other for less than two months, but not hearing from Evie for so long throws him off-kilter.

This is so unusual, given their typical rhythm, that even if work has been busy, he’s worried, and underneath the worry, he’s confused. It seemed unlike Evie to not be open with him about whatever was bothering her— at least, he thought she was.

A little while later, he finds himself sitting in front of her favorite bakery on his way to her apartment. He waits for the clock to hit 9 a.m. before he heads in and picks up breakfast for them both: a selection of pastries and two coffees. It’s busier than he expects, but there are still plenty of their favorites left.

He’s been to Evie’s building enough times now that the doorman recognizes him and buzzes him up the elevator straight away with a nod. It’s only when he's standing outside her door that he realizes he should've probably texted beforehand to make sure she was free.

Too late now. Tito rings her doorbell, his heart in his throat as he listens for any sound inside.

Somewhere between 30 seconds and 10 minutes later, he hears some shuffling, and the door opens slowly. Standing in the entryway is Evie rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of his Canucks hoodie, sleep shorts barely peaking out under the hem. He rips his eyes away from the soft skin of her legs.

She startles when she sees him, her eyes wide. Her messy hair and fuzzy slippers only intensify the warm fondness buzzing in his chest.

“Um, hi,” she says, stepping aside to wave him in. “What’s all this?”

“Nice hoodie,” he beams at her, a crooked smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

“What?” She looks down and immediately covers her face with her hands. “Oh shit, this is yours. I was just grabbing the first hoodie I saw, and it was sitting on my— I’m sorry, do you want it back? I can go change.”

“Hey,” he says gently, setting the food down on the kitchen counter. “No, keep it on. I can’t really wear it out anymore, and it looks good on you.”

She cracks a smile for the first time this morning.

“Here, I brought you some breakfast and coffee— peppermint mocha, half sweet, with oat milk. I figured you might need something stronger with all the late nights you’ve been working.”

She stares at him silently for a long time before reaching for the coffee and whispering a quiet, “Thanks.”

He smiles at her and pulls her in for a quick hug, feeling some of the tightness in his chest melt away as he breathes in her scent. As he pulls back, he waves her to the couch.

“Go, sit.” He pushes her gently. “I’ll bring over the food.”

As if on cue, her stomach grumbles. “What did you get? Oh! Oooh! Good Ambler. My favorite,” she says excitedly, finally looking more like herself.

He smiles to himself as he puts the food down on the coffee table. “Yeah, I know! I got us the quiche and a bunch of their pastries.” He opens the box and watches as her eyes light up.

She laughs, “Wow, you really went all out.”

“I guess I did,” he shrugs.

They eat in a comfortable silence for a while, both deep in thought. It’s been a few days since Tito has set foot in her apartment. He feels more at home here than in his own place. There are touches of Evie everywhere.

She has shelves next to the TV console that are covered in books. There are at least five more books spread around the room. Her fuzzy blanket is draped across the back of the couch. There are candles on her coffee table, sitting next to colorful coasters with bad book puns on them. Unhung art and posters are leaning against the bottom of the walls. The space is so clearly lived in and loved.

Although, as he looks around, he can see the signs that things might be a bit off. There are dirty dishes piled up in the sink when there usually wouldn’t be any. There are stacks of papers spread across various surfaces. A box next to the bin for the overflowing trash. He counts at least seven mugs of mostly drunk tea around the space.

He frowns.

“So,” he starts cautiously, “how've you been?” He winces at how awkward that sounds.

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Busy? I guess mainly.” She stares at the muffin in her hands, pointedly avoiding his skeptical expression.

He sighs and reaches over, his broad hand lightly covering her wrist. “Hey, I feel like something has been off recently, and I want to know what’s going on. Is it just work that’s been crazy? Or is there something else?”

Evie looks up at him finally; their eyes meet, both assessing the other. He can see the dark circles that dull her tired eyes, her expression pained.

“Yeah, I’ve just been having trouble getting stuff done. But it’s not a big deal. It’s fine, though. I can handle it.” She frowns and picks at the remaining half of the muffin.

“Hey,” Tito says gently. He reaches out, takes the muffin, and puts it down before taking her hands in his. The movement makes them turn to each other. “It’s okay if you’re struggling. Just tell me how I can help. I won’t judge you, okay?”

She shakes her head, tugging her hands back and hugging them to her body. “Yeah, I know, but I’m okay. I don’t want to be a pain—”

“Evie,” he says gently, “Asking for help doesn’t make you a pain. Look, we’re friends, right? You were there for me last month when I was having a really bad time. And now I want to be here for you. You should let me help where I can. Or at least tell me what’s wrong. I can’t guarantee I’ll always say or do the right thing, but I’ll listen, and I’ll try to help where I can, okay?”

She looks at him, searching his face for a lie and not finding one in his open and caring expression. “Okay,” she whispers with a small smile.

“Okay.”

He hands her back her muffin, and they finish up their breakfast. He takes their trash to the kitchen, and despite her complaints, he does the dishes as he makes them both a cup of tea.

When he sits back down on the couch, he finally speaks again, “So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Or at least, if there’s anything I can do to help?”

She heaves a big sigh but does smile at him warmly before settling into the couch. “I guess I just had a kinda bad week last week? I'm kinda behind on stuff, and I got really in my head about it. Remember how I told you I moved here after a bad breakup? Well…” She shrugs.

“You don’t need to explain if you don’t want to. I know it sucks. I mean, I haven’t dated anyone seriously since before the pandemic. But we actually broke up like January 2020, so those first few months in lockdown were really rough. Just bad feelings and a whole lot of time.”

She looks up at him, “Oh. I had no idea.”

“It’s not a big deal. That was quite a few years ago at this point, anyway. I’m over it now, but— I’m just saying that I know it can be hard.”

“Yeah,” she nods, fiddling with her mug before finally saying, “Honestly, I’m not that bummed about the breakup. It wasn’t bad or anything. Or at least nothing bad happened. Things just sort of just… I don’t know. I was just feeling like shit all the time.

“By the time I left, I had already been mentally checked out for a while, so I wasn’t really sad at all anymore. It was mainly hard because our lives were so entwined.

“We had gone to grad school together, and we were working at the same company. We had all the same friends, and everyone loved him, you know? So, it was hard to leave that behind.”

He reaches out and squeezes her knee, encouraging her to keep talking.

“It’s just… I hate it, feeling like I’m falling behind.”

“Like on work?”

She nods weakly.

“Well, if it’s anything I’ve had to learn in my career, you’re more than your productivity. You don’t need to be perfectly productive all the time to be contributing something.”

“Yeah… it’s just that—” Evie sighs.

“What?”

She swallows heavily and looks out the window. “It’s just that… I hate feeling behind at work because it makes me feel like I’m behind on my career. And that’s really all I have right now. After— Like, I’m 28 years old, and what do I have to show for it.”

He studies her face and squeezes her knee again, drawing her gaze back to him. “Who told you that?”

“What?”

“Who told you that you’re behind on life?”

“Well… Pierre? I guess. My ex. He used to talk about success milestones—”

“Success what?” he interrupts.

She powers on. “Just, like, things I should accomplish by a certain age. And when I left, you know? I set back my life? Single again. Starting over. And when I left, Pierre kinda pointed that out. And all I have left is my career— a struggling career.”

“Okay, honestly?” He says, fuming, “Fuck Pierre. Like, what the fuck is that?”

“No,” she shakes her head, chewing on her bottom lip, “No. I don’t— He’s right.”

“He isn't right.” He's sitting up now, fully facing her. “He's not— Firstly, your career isn't struggling. You have a job you enjoy, and from everything I’ve heard from Kelsey and Leanne, you’re fucking good at it. You’re making progress with finishing your book every week, which is awesome. I see you working your ass off all the time. And on top of all that, you're a great fucking friend. And a great fucking person.”

He shakes his head and sighs loudly. “Evie, you don’t have to complete some stupid made-up checklist to be successful. Only you get to decide what counts as success in your life. That's the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard. Honestly, Evie, I'm saying this as your friend, fuck Pierre for making you feel lesser and smaller with this bullshit.”

She looks at him, her face betraying her surprise at his outburst. His cheeks are warm and probably a little flushed, but he doesn’t care. He can feel the anger in his veins, opening and closing his fists to dispel some of the energy.

“I guess?” she says finally. “Pierre’s really not a bad guy. He’s a good person. We just— He just wasn’t a good fit for me.”

“Okay,” he concedes, silently disagreeing with her assessment.

“Thanks, though. For saying that. It means a lot.” She reaches out and squeezes his clenched fists. “Thank you. I'm okay, really. Overall, in the grand scheme of things, anyway. I’m sorry I didn’t come to your game yesterday.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to come to every game. It’s just an offer.” He smiles softly. “I mean, I’d love to have you there, obviously, but I’ll understand if you don't.”

“Okay,” she smiles back.

“So, do you think you can take today off? I think you might be a little burnt out.”

She sighs and looks at her phone, the emails trickling in. She knows she has the time; she always makes herself finish far earlier than whatever deadline her director gives her. She fires off a quick message to the group, telling them she’s taking a mental health day, before putting her phone face down on the coffee table.

“Yeah,” she smiles, “I can take today off.”

“Good,” he beams. He puts his arm around Evie’s waist and pulls her into his side. He reaches for the remote. “That’s good because I haven’t seen any Brooklyn Nine-Nine in like two weeks, and I know the next episode is a Halloween heist episode, and it’s been killing me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, dummy. That’s our show. I can’t watch it without you.”

She laughs, “Okay.”

He puts on the show, smiling as it plays the cold open. He turns to her and tugs her in closer.

“Hey, Evie?”

“Yeah?”

“Please just tell me what’s bothering you next time, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. I will. I promise.” She smiles up at him from his side, and he feels his chest tighten.

A few episodes later, they've slid down on the couch so that she’s almost lying on top of him. He looks down at her head on his chest to see her sound asleep. He pauses the show and pulls out his phone.

To jason dickinson: yo, do you have any more restaurant recs? evie’s been having a rough week, i’m thinking maybe taking her out for dinner today might cheer her up jason dickinson: eyyyyyyy get it!!!!!! To jason dickinson: ????? get what??? jason dickinson: uh? is this a trick question? To jason dickinson: no? jason dickinson: a date? laid? idk To jason dickinson: WHAT?!!!! jason dickinson: you’re asking for a date spot right? To jason dickinson: wtf jason, no. we’ve been through this. we’re just friends. jason dickinson: riiiiiiight. just friends who ask for a date spot on valentine’s day

Tito’s eyes widen as he glances at the calendar app on his phone.

February 14.

Valentine’s Day.

Fuck.

Next to him, Evie stirs, yawning.

“Hey,” she says, her voice muffled, “You paused the show?”

“Yeah, you fell asleep.”

She chuckles. “I guess I did.” She looks up at him and frowns. “What’s up, Tito? You got a weird look on your face.”

“Oh, um. I just realized what day it was.”

“What day is it?” she looks at her phone.

“Yeah, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh!” she laughs, shaking her head. She pulls away, sitting up, and runs her fingers through her hair. “Okay? Did you have plans? I’m good here if you want to go.”

“What? No? What plans would I have?”

“I don’t know, Anthony. Maybe you’re an international man of mystery,” she laughs, lightly shoving his knee.

“Sure I am,” he says, rolling his eyes, “That’s not what I meant, though.”

“What did you mean then?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you have plans.” She gives him an unimpressed look. “Okay, well, maybe you don’t have plans. But I didn’t get you anything.”

“Do friends get friends Valentine’s Day gifts?”

He sucks in a breath. “I mean, no? I don’t know.”

“You did get me a whole box of pastries. I feel like that’s pretty good. I mean it’s not like I’ve ever celebrated Valentine’s Day before.”

He freezes, brows furrowed.

“What? You never celebrated with Pierre?”

“Nope,” she shakes her head.

“Weren’t you together for like five years?”

“Yep!” she shrugs. “He just wasn’t into that sort of stuff. He thought it was stupid and a waste of money.”

“Come on, what the fuck?” he says, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, we never did anniversaries either. It’s not a big deal.”

“Please tell me he at least did birthdays.”

“I guess. I mean, he always got me birthday and Christmas presents, but usually nothing major. I always planned a dinner and stuff with our group of friends for my birthday.”

He studies her face, his brows furrowed.

She sits up. “What?”

“Seriously?”

She nods.

“I bet he always got you to plan his birthday parties too.” He rolls his eyes and sighs. “I don’t mean to be rude, but like. Fuck Pierre, man.”

She’s quiet for a second before saying softly, “It’s really not a big deal.”

He shakes his head. “I mean, sure, Valentine’s Day is kinda stupid and cheesy. But that’s the point. It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use it as an excuse to show someone you love them.”

“Wow, Anthony. I didn’t know you were such a romantic,” she grins, bumping his shoulder.

“I’m not. He just sounds like he was being lazy and didn’t really care to try.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal, Tito. Guys're just like that.”

His eyes follow the sad smile she gives him, and he pauses. Her eyes are a little glassy, and her cheeks redder. He knows when to leave something be.

“Guys are absolutely not ‘just like that,’” he says, making air quotes. “But I’ll drop it.”

He lays back down, tugging on her arm. He mutters, “I just think that he should've cared enough to try, like, even a little bit.”

“God, you're such a sap. Imagine your teammates hearing about this.”

“I wouldn't be embarrassed, Evie. Like, at all,” he looks at her flatly.

She rolls her eyes and lays back down against him.

A few minutes later, she speaks up again. “So, you want to hit up some clubs tonight? Things always get hot and heavy on Valentine’s Day. Good night to pick-up.”

“It’s Wednesday, and I’ve got a game tomorrow,” he says, his voice hollow as he forces his eyes to stay on the screen.

“Lame,” she says, a relieved smile on her lips that he doesn't see.

Evie — March 2

When Evie comes to, she’s lying on her bed with her arm covering her eyes, panting. Her body still feels tingly, in the way it does after good, wild sex. It always leaves her a little dizzy and disoriented. She can hear the sound of heavy breathing next to her. She hums, pleased.

Her other outstretched hand is buried in soft hair. She tugs on a curl and smiles. She loves his curly hair. Evie has always had thick, straight hair, a blessing and a curse; it has never felt as soft as curly hair does. Her fingers twirl around the curl, playing with the springy coil.

She thinks maybe Tito will let his hair grow even longer. He looks so good with longer hair that forms actual curls. The way it falls in front of his eyes a bit makes him look so soft. She thinks about how he lays on the couch lazily, his hair splayed out on the cushion, and how his shirt rides up to show the sliver of skin above his low-slung sweats when he gets comfortable.

The urge to ask him if he’s going to cut his hair soon overtakes her exhaustion, and she moves her arm to look over.

“So—” Evie starts before she furrows her brows.

At that moment, she notices that instead of Tito’s baby blues, she's met with a pair of wide-eyed browns. Her entire body freezes as the night slams back into her consciousness.

The dancing, the flirting, the meaningful looks, the cab ride home, the sex. God, the sex was fucking good. Her limbs hum in agreement as her chest tightens.

Well, these eyes gaze at her lazily, warm and soft. Evie’s hand is still in her curly mess of hair. The first thing she thinks is that it's actually longer than Tito’s hair is now before she immediately banishes his name from her mind completely.

Evie can’t seem to relax her body enough to free her voice, which is caught in her throat.

Shit, what is her name?

Natalie? Natalia? Natasha? Nat for sure—

“Don’t worry,” Nat states, smirking, “I’m not staying. Just trying to catch my breath before leaving.”

Evie can’t help but feel unsettled and disoriented, but she forces her mind to quieten. Nat is really hot, and they did have a really good night. Slowly, Evie puts a coy smile back on her face and blinks slowly at her.

“You don’t have to leave? If you don’t want to. I didn’t mean to kick you out.”

Evie has absolutely no idea why she just said that. She has never asked a hook-up if they want to stay. It must show on her face because Nat laughs. She shakes her head and presses another heated kiss to Evie’s lips, reminding her why she feels like she’s still floating outside of her body.

“I’ll get going.” Nat shakes her head and stands up, looking for her clothes in the mess on the floor. Evie probably should've cleaned up a little before going out.

She leans up on her elbows and lets her eyes trail down Nat’s body. Her mind finally focuses, and she whistles. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?”

Nat laughs.

“Yes, baby girl. I’ve got to go to work tomorrow. This was very good, though,” Nat says while putting on her clothes. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to ask for your number or when we’ll see each other again. So you don’t need to give me the spiel. I knew— know what this was.”

Evie laughs at the exaggerated wink Nat gives her. She feels a little lighter with relief at that.

“Can I use your bathroom, though? Before I go.”

“Yeah, it’s right through there.”

“Thanks.” Nat sends her a warm smile before slipping into the bathroom.

Evie lays back down and rubs her eyes. That was fucking weird, what the—

Her bathroom door flies open.

“What the fuck?” Natalie says, holding up Tito’s bread trimmer.

“What?”

“Do you have a boyfriend or something? Did you just fucking use me to cheat on someone?”

“No?” Evie sits up, confused.

“Don’t fucking lie to me. I was willing to overlook the men’s shoes and coat in your entryway; maybe they’re a friend’s. I was willing to overlook the sweatshirts and sweatpants strewn around your room. I figured maybe you just like being comfortable.”

“What?” she squeaks through the lump in her throat.

Nat powers through her interruption. “But there’s a fucking beard trimmer in there. Two toothbrushes. Two towels. A curly-defining gel that you definitely don’t use. And the—”

“No, you’re—”

“Are you honestly going to tell me you live here alone? What stupid fucking excuse are you going to give me, huh? This is a one-bedroom apartment, dude. Whoever’s shit this is, he's definitely not your roommate.”

Evie stares at her, stunned, mouth opening and closing.

“God, you know what. Save it. I don’t want to fucking know,” she says before storming out of the bedroom.

Evie hugs her knees in stunned silence, watching from her bed as Nat grabs her coat and shoes. She pleads with her brain for something to say and comes up empty.

Nat throws her one last dirty look, her face twisting in a scowl at her continued silence. “Seriously, fuck you, Gigi.”

The sound of the front door slamming makes Evie jump. She just sits there, staring into empty space for so long that she feels her butt go numb.

She flops back onto her bed, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes.

“What the fuck just happened?” she says to her empty room.